An unsettled Lovestory!
by TalesOFTanya
Summary: A harsh side of a love story. A second reality check for Jhanvi and Daya! A fang of sin is still there, it isnt too easy to be hidden no matter what they do to hide it! Its a sequel to Mission Daya's one night Stand! Please read the first story before reading this!
1. Chapter 1

**They are back! My Jhanvi and Nakul are back! I am back! Just for all of you! Thank you all so so much for appreciating my previous story! Hope *Fingers and toes crossed* that you will enjoy and appreciate the sequel! To those who just peeped in and have no clue what I am talking about, please read the summary and if you haven't read please please read my first work, Mission Daya's One Night Stand! Or else you'd as clueless as you are now! Anyways enjoy the introduction and do let me know how its going! And yes Shreya ji bhi sequel me special appearance karengi. They'll have their own little Mahabharat coming up in next few chapters dont worry! Time for me to shut up! Enjoy enjoy!**

My inbox is empty  
There wasn't even anything in the spam folder. Not a single e-mail telling me that I had claim to a share of 5 lakh rupees, or one about some poor deformed girl in a country that doesn't even have internet telling me that all I had to do to get her a life saving operation was to forward my e-mail to twenty people on my contacts list.

I shut the lid of my laptop with a heavy sigh. There was something very lonely about an empty inbox. It wasn't just the e-mail thing though, every day had been very lonely and slow since quitting GlamGoss six months ago. Life as a freelance journalist was much tougher than I had ever imagined. I hadn't realised that we had all been spoon fed by Sanjay, my boss. Nakul and I knew practically nothing about the dog eat dog world of journalism. Neither of us was doing particularly well in the big bad world, and money was getting scarce.

I suppose you might be wondering what happened to Sanjay. Well, I knew that after the police had seen the video footage of what had happened I could press assault charges, however, I didn't. I wanted nothing more to do with him and I had washed my hands of the whole situation. It was in the past. Last I had heard, he was back running GlamGoss, on a strict diet and exercise regime to prevent another heart attack. Daya still felt horrible about that, he'd never meant to hurt him, he'd simply hid all the proofs of him hurting that guy. I told him not to worry his pretty little head about it, Sanjay was a snake and not worthy of his guilt.

Daya didn't appreciate the pretty comment.

Being out of the loop was disconcerting. When I worked at GlamGoss I got all the latest gossip and knew where all the hot stories were and who people wanted to read about. Now, as I said before, my inbox was empty.

Nakul had managed to keep in contact with a few Bollywood photographers he knew and was able to go to events and then sell the pictures on. Freelance photography was a little easier to tackle, but it meant that Nakul was now the main contributor to the bills, paying about 90% of them. I felt 100% terrible. We had always been a team, the two of us against the world. We thought we were invincible. Now we both hung precariously on the edge, clinging on by the tips of our fingers. We had never lived very lavishly, but as time had gone on and our savings ran out, we had to start selling things. Paintings in our flat, some of our more valuable ornaments, we even had to sell our living room furniture suite, exchanging it for a very cheap and tatty sofa and collecting the difference to pay for electricity. Nakul was as stubborn as a mule and refused to let me go running to my parents for money. Secretly I thought that was just because of his vendetta against his own parents, but I obliged.

It wasn't like we hadn't _tried_ to find a permanent job. We had, and almost every newspaper and magazine had our CV's, but it was painful waiting for someone already employed to quit. It was even more difficult when you took into consideration that we had no qualifications under our belts, and all we had to rely on was our two year long employment at a decidedly dodgy magazine.

I had considered to find a way to move out of my steam and try teaching, but financially, it was impossible.

Just then Nakul stormed in through the door, slamming it shut with such force that I winced and waited for the crash of the mirror in the bathroom as it fell off the wall. Thankfully, it didn't come.

"That little _bitch_," he screamed, slamming his keys down on the table.

Nakul rarely got this agitated, so if he was blowing up like this you knew something serious was up. I set the closed laptop down on the little table and hugged my knees close on the less than clean sofa we'd exchanged our designer one for.

"Kya hua, what's wrong?" I dared to ask.

"She broke my _fucking_ camera that's what's wrong," he roared, removing it from where it had been hanging around his neck.

"Who's 'she'?"

"Oh. My. God. Right, I was outside the hospital waiting for what's his face to come out after getting in that epic fight at the press conference the other night and there's a whole bunch of us. I was in this really awesome spot and right when he comes through the door, this little bitch who thinks she's all that but really isn't comes up and literally shoves me out of the way. I fell down and the lens of the camera smashed! Can you believe it? I don't have it covered under insurance, and I don't have another one because I fucking _sold_ the rest so we could pay our _fucking_ bills. _Fuck_."

I winced. I knew his camera was his pride and joy.

"If it's just the lens, couldn't you get a replacement?"

"Jhanvi, sweetie, most lenses cost more than the camera itself. We're talking about ten thousand rupees here! If you promise not to eat anything for a month I'll go and buy a new one now," he added with a sarcastic sneer.

Puffing out my cheeks I let out a long sigh. Things had just got a lot worse. If Nakul's lens was broken, his camera was utterly useless. If Nakul's camera was useless, he couldn't take photos, and he couldn't work. If he couldn't work, we couldn't get any money and without money, we wouldn't last two weeks.

"Fuck," I agreed.

"Uh-huh," he hummed, folding his arms.

"Apne parents ko call kar yar," I pleaded with him, "You know they're rich, and your mum especially will…"

"I'm not calling them Jhanvi, end of," Nakul interrupted, "I still haven't forgiven them yet."

I had to agree with him, even if his decision could seriously hinder our living standards. You see, Nakul's parents are devout conservative, and when Nakul had come out about his sexuality when he was sixteen, they'd send him from Mumbai up to Banaras to live with his Grandmother. She'd died last year, and it was the money from her will that had kept Nakul and me afloat without a stable income for so long.

"So what are we going to do then?" I sighed, looking up at him with sorrowful eyes.

"We're going to have to move," he shrugged, "It's all I can think of."

"Like you'd get a cheaper flat for two people here in Mumbai," I laughed scornfully.

"Well what's your great suggestion then?" he asked, raising his voice.

"Have you ever thought of getting another job? One outside the journalism industry?"

"Jhanvi, agar hum kisi restaurant me bhi waiter ka kam kare, we still couldn't afford this. We had a great salary at GlamGoss for what little work we actually did."

"Hum waha wapas to nehi ja sakte na!" I yelled at him. Before he could reply, the phone began to ring. Nakul , who was closest, snatched it out of it's dock.

"Kon hai be?" he snapped. The anger in his face dissolved as the person on the end revealed their identity. He took the phone from his ear and set it down on the table, having pressed the speaker button.  
"Hi Daya!" he said.

"Kya hua, kuch pareshan lag rahe ho," the voice on the other end of the speaker chuckled.

"Yeah, sorry, pata nehi tha ki tum ho. How're you?"

"Thik thak," he sighed, "Thora to problem chal raha hai Bureau me. Ek case ke peeche ek mahine se pare hue hai! Ab to dimag bhi kaam nehi kar rha, har roz larai hoti rehti hai is sare hue se case ko leke."

"Aw, yeh to bhot hi galat baat hai," Nakul mused, "By the way, kya tum ab bhi straight ho, ya gay ban chuke ho?"

I hit my palm off my forehead as the end of the line went silent for a few moments.

"Yar jab bhi me landline pe phone karta hu tum mujhse yeh bekar sa sawal kyu puchte ho…"

"Bas ese hi, you're a very sexy guy and I'm very available," Nakul purred.

"Esa hai," Daya suggested, "Agar, thik hai, agar maine apna mind change kiya, to mai khud tujhe inform kardunga, sahi hai na?"

It was impossible to hold in my laughter, and I just exploded, holding my sides to stop them from splitting.

"Saale Nakul, tune mujhe speaker pe dal rakha hai?" Daya yelled from the phone.

"Humesha rakhta hu tumhe mai speaker pe," he laughed, "Baat karni hai Jhanvi se?"

There was another pause on the end of the line as Daya sulked. Finally he crackled through.  
"Please."

Nakul tossed me over the phone, then signalled that he was going out again. I gave him the thumbs up before turning the speaker off and putting the phone to my ear.

"Hi Daya," I giggled.

"…it's not funny," he hissed from the other end.

"Oh it really is," I laughed.

"Fine, mai rakh raha hu phone, bye!" he huffed.

"No, please don't," I said quickly, "I promise to be good."

"Okay then," he sighed, "Kesi ho?"

"Thik hu," I lied. Daya had enough problems with his Bureau and everything else to be burdened by my own, "Thik nehi chal rha kya bureau me kuch?"

"Meh, esi baat nehi hai, hum to humesha larte rehte hai. We'll fight, we'll walk out, we'll come back tomorrow and do it all again until it clicks into place. Logo ko lagta hai main daravna hu but I should really introduce them to my best friend, Abhijeet."

"Abhijeet bas band kamro me hi daravna hai," I reminded him, "Tumse to 24/7 kisi ko bhi dar lage."

"Thanks, I'm glad you think so highly of me," he droned sarcastically. I chuckled, curling up into a little ball on the sofa, completely contented by the voice on the other end of the phone. Okay, I'll admit that I still really, really liked Daya, but we were nothing more than friends. And I was perfectly happy with that. Having him as a friend was better than not having him as one right?

"So, kal maine leave liya hai, case ne dimag ki band baja di hai to ACP sir ne khud hum sabko bureau me ane ke liye mana kiya hua hai...Har koi larta hai yar, aj kal to woh Purvi bhi larne lag gayi hai bato bato pe" Daya continued, " Wese I was wondering if you'd like to catch up over a coffee?"

"Sounds nice," I murmured, "Same place as usual?"

"Mmmm, esa lag ta hai humne wahi apni choti si duniya bana li hai, haina?"

"Ha or kya. We should have our name on those seats at the back."

"We should. Do you want me to look into it?"

"Daya, I was joking."

"Well… so was I."

"Could you really buy your own seats?"

"I'm famous, I can do anything," teased Daya.

"Show off," I sighed mockingly.

Just then I could hear a door slam in the background of Daya's phone.

"Shit, Abhijeet bureau me," he moaned.

"That was fast," I mused, "What time do you want to meet at?"

"Nine tomorrow morning."

"Itne subah? Itne subah kaun uth ta hai?" I taunted.

"Chup raho, subah uthna achi baat hai," Daya defended, "There's nothing wrong with that!"

"Oh ho health teacher firse, yar yeh health guru nehi chahiye mujhe please!"

"Ah, hum kal pranayam ya kapalbharti nehi karenge…"

"Ha woh to hai," I laughed, grinning from ear to ear.

"Mujhe esa kyu lagta hai ki me hi tumse milne ke liye pagal ho raha hu...yeh bhot galat baat hai! Meri senior wali reputation ka kya? Kabhi khud to mujhse milne ke liye mujhe pataya hota! Kitna acha lagta!"

Through another burst of laughter, I heard a voice in the background of the phone conversation say: Kis se baat kar rehe ho Daya?  
That was Abhijeet.

"Oh shit, main badme baat karta hu," Daya muttered hastily, "I'll see you at eleven."

Abhijeet continued to speak over the top of his best buddy.  
"Tum us bazaru kamini se baat kr rhe ho kya?" he snapped. I cringed. Although Daya had moved on from the incident six months ago his best friend seemed to be less forgiving.

"Yar us baat ko leke firse larai mat karo," Daya hissed, his voice distant having, I assumed, covered the receiver of the phone. Then he was back. "Bye," he whispered timidly.

"Bye," I replied before the line went dead.

Daya was late. Not overly late, only by fifteen minutes. I knew I would have to make allowances for his hectic lifestyle, but he _had_ said that today was his day off. Maybe Abhijeet showed up and had turned his alarm off and he had overslept. That would be one of the most likely reasons. But then he would have called to say he would be late. Daya wasn't the type to stand anyone up for a date.

Then, I knocked myself around the head. It wasn't a _date_. It was simply two friends meeting up for a perfectly innocent cup of coffee in a perfectly innocent coffee outlet.

Fed up with waiting and the girl asking me every two minutes if I was ready to order yet, I got up and joined the queue. When I got to the front, I predictably ordered a Vanilla latte and handed over my credit card. I hated paying for things on the card, but with so little money around, I never had any cash in my purse and had to pay with the card. I placed it into the little slot and waited for the screen to come up telling me to enter my pin. I waited, and I waited. The girl at the till apologised and tried the card again, cleaning the chip. This time the screen for the pin came up and I entered my pin.

Would you believe me if I said it was only a coincidence that the pin was Daya's birthday? In my defence it's an easy pin to remember.

The little card device started to beep and the girl at the till snatched it off me. I wondered for a moment if I'd entered my pin incorrectly. Then she took the card out and handed it back to me, shaking her head.

"Apka card reject ho raha hai ma'am," she said plainly.

I could feel the colour rise in my cheeks as I was thoroughly embarrassed. Fumbling with my purse I opened the coin department and emptied it out onto the counter trying to see if I could scrape together enough money. The business woman behind me sighed loudly and began to tap her shoe impatiently as I counted out the money. I was fifty rupees short of my coffee. I had never felt so humiliated before as I gathered up the change and put it back into my purse, muttering apologies.

A five hundred rupee note, accompanied by a hand landed on the counter.  
"Main pay karta hu. Mujhe inke bill ke saath ek cup Mocha bhi add ki jiye please!"

Looking up over my right shoulder at the grand six foot something I smiled in relief. The smile quickly faded as Daya took off his sunglasses, revealing a very serious look on his face.  
"Kuch bataogi bhi kya hua hai?" he asked bluntly.

Avoiding Daya's eyes I watched the cars going past out the window as we waited on our coffee, my hands resting on the table as I fiddled with a napkin.

"Jhanvi," Daya sighed, "Am I going to have to force it out of you? What's up?"

"What do you mean?" I shrugged innocently, still not looking at him.

"Tumhara credit card rejected ho gaya hai, or pese ke naam pe chillar!"

"Is mahine ka kharcha bhot gaya hai na mera isilye," I breathed. It was true, I did spend too much. Spending anything of nothing is spending too much.

"It's a fucking cup of coffee," Daya hissed, suddenly agitated, "Look me in the eye and tell me what's up."

My eyes felt hot and a lump appeared at the back of my throat. A hand rested over mine, stopping me shredding the napkin to a million little pieces. Looking up, I found a pleading pair of brown eyes looking at me.  
"Tell me," he whispered, his agitation gone, "Please?"

After that, there was no holding back the flurry of words from my mouth.  
"Hum sab kuch kho chuke hai," I choked, "Nakul and I, humare saare paise khatam ho gaye hai, we're struggling to pay our bills. We can't find any jobs but we've no money to do anything else or start a business, we're going to have to move, and Nakul broke the last camera lens he had so he can't work freelance, and no-one will take my freelance stuff. Sir ke upar se sab kuch ja raha hai, I have no idea where we could live because none of us can drive or afford a car so we couldn't commute to any of the big events without racking up huge costs. Journalism is my dream, main kisi waitress ka job nehi kar sakti.…" I paused to wipe away a salty tear that had managed to escape from my eye against my will.  
"Or me pagalo ke tarah ro rahi hu."

Sniffing loudly, a few more tears slid down my cheeks. Daya stood up, his chair scraping on the floor. For one small, crazy moment I thought he was leaving, but then he came and stood beside me, commanding that I stand up too. Enveloping me in a hug, I buried my face into his chest, not caring that my glasses pushed uncomfortably against my face. His strange scented mix of cologne, washing detergent and cigarettes that I'd become accustomed to, calmed me considerably. He rubbed his hand over my back a few times, shushing me at the same time. As everything else felt as though it was crumbling away from me, it was a comfort to know I could still count on Daya.

"Mat ro please?" he asked, pulling away. Taking a long relieving breath in, I nodded. We resumed our positions at the table and I took off my fogged up glasses, and cleaned them on my t-shirt.

"Tum yeh baat mujhe bata sakti thi hai na?" Daya asked after another sip of caffeine.

"Main tumhe pareshan nehi karna chahti thi," I muttered truthfully, "Tum apne case ko leke ek mahine se sheher me or sheher ke baahar chakkar kat rahe ho. You were so busy and I didn't want to intrude."

"You'd never be an intrusion," he chucked warmly.  
"So… kuch idea hai, kya karogi ab?"

I gave him a look as if to say 'Main kar bhi kya sakti hu?'

"Okay, I get it," he sighed, taking his coffee in both his hands and blowing over the top to cool it. I resumed shredding the napkin on the table.

Guilt was hitting me to some extent. Daya didn't need to be plagued by my problems, it was easier just to try and breeze through life without telling him. However, I did feel slightly better having told him, like a small weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It was only a small weight.

It still felt as though I was being crushed.

Daya cleared his throat a little.  
"Agar..." he began hesitantly, "Agar tumhe paise chahiye to main..."

"Daya please," I cut across him, "yeh nehi. I couldn't. Thank you... really, but I don't want charity."

Daya nodded and resumed stirring his coffee with the little plastic spoon. Feeling a little awkward at the lengths of his generosity, I turned my attention out the window, watching the people go past in the street. Did he really mean it or was he just being polite?

"Oh _ha,_yad aya!" cried Daya suddenly. I snapped my eyes back to look at him curiously, "Mera next week birthday hai."

Shit. How could I forget, it was my bleeding credit card _pin_ number. Well, it wasn't as if I had forgotten, but more that I had been too busy to remember. He was grinning ear to ear like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. It would be his Thirty fifth birthday, yet as he sat there with that stupid grin on his face he could have passed for five.

"Mere dosto ne mujhe pagal kar diya hai party ke liye, is liye me soch raha hu tum bhi aati to maza ataa..So you are invited!" he announced.

"Your _party_?" I asked sceptically.

"Mujhe pata hai, Abhijeet bhi arha hai par... you're not exactly on _his_ guest list. It's my birthday!"

Of course I wasn't Abhijeet's favourite person. I'd tried to set his friend up for a one night stand with the intent of taking photos and writing an article. It was surprising that Daya had forgiven me, let alone persisted in keeping contact, to the point where now I would regard us as quite close friends. Abhijeet was displaying the reaction I'd anticipated from Daya, rejection, anger and hatred. But, you can never please everyone. If I was going to keep in contact with Daya, I would have to put up with his bestest best friend's cold demeanour towards me.

"Party kab hai?" I asked him, beginning to list the things I could get him for a gift. What the hell do you get for someone who has almost everything, and can afford anything else?

"This Saturday, I know it's short notice, we've been busy, or case ke liye pagal ho rahe hai isliye time bhi nehi mila. Or gift ke bare me sochna bhi mat! Bhot bura lagega mujhe!" he mumbled, speaking to his coffee instead of me the further he got to the end of his sentence.

"_You'd_ feel guilty?" I laughed, holding up my wrist, displaying the chunky, solid silver charm bracelet to him, "Tumne _mere _birthday pe apni jeb khali karke mujhe itna acha sa gift diya tha, ab _tum_ guilty feel karoge agar_ mai_ tumhe gift du, Daya tum mahan ho!"

Daya laughed.  
"Yar tumhara birthday special tha, Tum Tees ki hui thi. Or yeh sirf tumhare liye nehi, sabke liye, mujhe gifts dena acha lagta hai. So please, don't bother with a present."

"If you insist," I sighed, half of me glad that I wouldn't have to spend any money, the other part still thinking of something small to get him anyway to ease my conscious.

"Or Nakul ka birthday kab tha?" Daya questioned, "I remember you mentioning it a while ago but I can't remember exactly when."

I paused, ashamed of myself that I had to think about it for more than an acceptable amount of time for being his best friend.

"July," I blurted suddenly when it popped into my head, "His birthday was on the twenty fifth of July."

"Ah okay. So tell me," he said, veering into a completely different conversation, "Nakul ka camera kese tuta?"

"Uska lens. Uske pas das lenses the, but he had to sell them all. They're worth quite a lot and its one of the reason hum abhi bhi bhuke nehi mar rhe hai. But kal ek press conference ek photographer ne usse takrake woh tor diya."

"Konsa Camera woh use karta hai wese?" Daya enquired casually. I frowned, not expecting him to be interested in this topic.

"Yeh photography ka shauk kabse?"

Daya shrugged.  
"Soch raha tha ki ek mai bhi le lu, wese bhi hum ese ese jagah jate hai waha snap lena kabhi bhot mushkil ho jata hai ordinary digital camera se, bhot saare details lene hote hai kabhi koi incidents me!"

"Hhm," I agreed, "Camera ke bare mujhe to zyada pata nehi hai but I'm sure Nakul would be _more_ than willing to talk with you about them. Uske pas shayad Pentax K10 hai."

"Oh," he breathed.

All too soon, Daya had to leave. His busy schedule meant he always had something to do.

"So Saturday?" he asked, getting to his feet and probably adjusting his gun around his belt at the back. Usually I would have puzzled over it for a few moments, but I had learnt by now that Daya had these little quirks, and he wouldn't be Inspector Daya without his gun. I'd just have to grow to live with his weapon protective self.

"Bilkul nehi bhulungi!" I replied, pushing my chair back under the table.

"Good. Okay, well I'll see you there then, agar possible hua to me phone karunga. Or please tum hi phone uthana. Mujhe uske gay gay sawalo ka jawab bilkul nehi dena hai!"

I laughed into his quick embrace, savouring the brief moment.

"Thanks for coffee," I replied, releasing my grip, though I would have preferred to stay in his arms for longer.

"No problem," he smiled, "Or paise ka fikar mat karna, Nakul kuch na kuch bandobast to Zarur kar lega. Kya pata, jaadu ki kabhi kismat khol de!"

And Jaadu did happen itself, the very next day.

"Oh. My. God." I heard Nakul call that morning while I was in the bathroom, preening myself after stepping out of the shower. Usually he uttered that phrase a hundred times a day, yet this time felt different somehow. Curiosity devoured me, so I wrapped a towel around myself and went to investigate.

Nakul was standing at the kitchen table, the unwrapped contents of a box and paper scattered around the place.

"What is it?" I asked peering over his shoulder, glad that I'd picked up my glasses.

I didn't need an answer. I could see perfectly well what was in the box. Wrapped up in factory packaged foam were two brand new Pentax lenses.

"Yar pagal," Nakul swore, gaping at the box, "Tune kharida kya?"

"Of course not," I snapped back, "You know I'm broke too."

"Then... there's no name. It just says 'Happy belated Birthday'" he managed, still dumbfounded.

I had a pretty good idea who had sent it.

No, scratch that. There was only one person.

"Daya," I muttered under my breath.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for all the reviews! This is just so good..the reviews and the favorite! Its just amazing! Hats off to every single one of you! Anyways read and enjoy! It's Daya's b'day! Wish him a happy birthday guys! And tell me if you all want any improvement! Okay enjoy enjoy!**

Daya's generosity helped more than he could have possibly imagined. The new lenses for Nakul's camera relieved the immediate problem. He was able to resume freelance work and make enough money to pay bills. It was by no means a permanent solution, I certainly didn't want to spend the rest of my life just getting by and no more, but it was enough for now.

I even managed to get Daya a present. It was a token gesture of course, but it eased my conscious.  
I got him a silver crafted frame that looked like some sort of an award, but which had Vedas prayers written on it. I knew he'd love it since it is meant to protect him. It was more of like a charm. I bought it, along with a really cool jet black T-shirt.

It was perfect. If it wasn't so ugly for gift. Even though Abhijeet avoided me like the plague, I would still feel guilty going to _his _friends birthday.  
"Tumhara naam Daya hai iska matlab yeh nehi ki apni daya humesha logo pe dikhao, itni sweet banne ki kya zarurat thi?" I said to him Friday night, the phone tucked under my chin as I riffled through my closet looking for clothes to wear.

"Matlab? Kya keh rahi ho tum?" he asked from the other end of the phone.

"The lenses...Nakul ke liye woh lenses?"

The line went silent for a few moments.  
"Kya?"

"The lenses for Nakul's camera, you sent them didn't you?"

"Jhanvi, I have no idea, tum keh kya rahi ho kuch samajhme nehi a rha!" Daya replied slowly.

"Mm, okay, whatever," I sighed, rolling my eyes, "Wese party ki planning kese chal rahi hai?"

"Yar pucho mat! Main khud kabhi koi planning nehi karunga in sab cheezo ki," he blurted," Maine Abhijeet ko ek list di thi food items lane ke liye, woh pagal ulta Tarika se milne chala gaya, yeh buri baat to nehi hai par fir bhi mujhe khud drive karke jana par gaya woh sab lane, socho mere hi b'day ke din me khud apne liye cake le raha hu!"

"Tumne drive ki?" I pointed out, taking out a dress and giving it the once over, before deciding against it.

"Mai acha drive kar leta hu! _Fine driving skills_," he snapped, "Mai yar kisse baat kar raha hu, Sarcasm queen phone rakho!"

"Oh so grumpy, itna kya gussa," I droned, "Wese kal party me kon kon a raha hai?"

"Just friends from bureau. It's a small do, you know, main koi celebrity to hu nehi ki koi bari si bash rakhu! Bas ACP Sir Canada gaye hue hai so woh nehi apainge. Wese yeh achi baat hai... Unke samne to drinks bhi allowed nehi tha party main, ab thora bhot to allowed bhi ho jaiga, you know!"

"Wow drinks? Kya baat hai! Perfect birthday party ki planning ho gayi yeh to!" I giggled. He laughed back.

"Dekho blame mujhe mat karo, yeh Freddy or Abhijeet ki mili bhagat hai! Mai bhot kam peeta hu!"

"Daya, micro oven kese chalate hai?" the voice in the background asked.

"Oh god. Jhanvi, sorry I'm going to have to go here," he apologised, "Abhijeet khana pakane ja raha, isse pehle ki mera ghar jal jai! I've got to go."

"Okay," I giggled, "Remember fire brigade ka number hai..."

"Main na mazak kar raha tha, woh itna bhi bura nehi hai," Daya interrupted, "He's more likely to give himself food poisoning because it's undercooked. Besabri keera jise kehte hai, woh hai mera Abijeet."

"DAYA!" the voice in the background roared.

"ARAHA HU YAR RUKO!" Daya yelled back, right in my ear, "Sorry, I have to go. See you tomorrow."

"Okay, what time?"

"About... 8pm. Thik hai na?"

"Sure, see you then."

"Bye!" he called, right before an alarm began to squeal in the background.

"Oh for the love of God Abhijeet mera microwave..."

And then the line cut off. I collapsed onto my bed laughing.

Nakul had this habit of being annoyingly organised. If he was asked to be somewhere at a certain time he would be there on the exact minute. He would always manage to be perfectly turned out at the same time. So, when he wasn't on his perfectly timed schedule, he was annoyed. Like now.

"Come _on_," he groaned exasperatedly at me, hovering around me like a bee, "A snail gets dressed faster than you."

I snapped my middle finger at him and went back to fiddling with my earring. However much I wanted the dangly black earrings to go into the little holes, they just refused to go in. Finally the earring slipped in and I let out a relieved sigh. Standing back from the mirror, I gave myself the once over. It was a simple purple dress that floated gracefully to my knees, with a chunky black belt serving as an empire line. It looked like some high street designer, when in fact I'd bought it at a closing down sale for less than six hundred.

"Woh ghayal ho jaiga," Nakul said, grabbing my arm, "Now can we _go_?"

"Kon... kon ghayal ho jaiga?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Can we have this conversation in the taxi? Please?" he begged, his hands under his chin in a praying manner.

Grabbing my little bag off the table, I complied and followed him out to the taxi, nearly tripping down the stairs in my heels as I went.

Daya's flat was in fact a beautiful penthouse suite in the middle of Mumbai. As I stepped out of the car and looked up at the top I felt dizzy. I'd never had a head for heights, but the view must have been amazing. Nakul stuffed a little bag into my hands as he paid the taxi.

"Agar mai drink karu to mujhe zyada peene mat dena," I warned Nakul, who nodded in reply.

Together, we rode the elevator all the way to the top, and could hear the music even before the doors slid open, revealing a pretty ordinary door, with a pin protected lock and a little button to ring. We pushed the button with a buzz sound and waited. A few seconds later the door opened and Daya was standing there grinning. As I had expected his hair was gelled in perfect spike on end, giving him a boyish look, the _Ben Ten_ look as I call it.

"Jhanvi," he squealed throwing his arms around me, "Thanks for coming."

"No problem," I beamed in reply, "Happy Birthday."

Stepping out of the embrace he barely had the chance to think before Nakul pounced on him.

"Happy Birthday!" Nakul squealed, squeezing his arms around a half terrified Daya.

"Erm... thanks... Nakul," Daya managed, trying not to seem rude. When Nakul released him and Daya's shoulders relaxed again, I handed over the little bag with the presents.

"Maine kaha tha mat lao, yeh kya hai yar!" he pouted with a frown.

"It's okay, it's really not anything special," I shrugged as he took the little bag from me and set it on a table that was literally groaning under the weight of decoratively wrapped boxes of numerous sizes. The little bag seemed very out of place and I knew the contents would seem equally misplaced. I crossed my fingers that he'd like it.

Just then Abhijeet poked his head around the corner. His face immediately fell.  
"Oh," he muttered, "Hi."

Then he was gone again. Daya rolled his eyes.

"Ignore him. Pagal hai woh. You look nice by the way."

"Thank you," I grinned, pride swelling within my chest at the compliment, "Tum bhi bhot ache dikh rehe ho."

And I meant it, he did. But that was Daya. No matter what the occasion was, or even if you were meeting him for lunch he still managed to turn up immaculate, without one hair out of place. He struck me as the sort of person who would dress up to clean the house. Tonight, he was wearing a black party suit with a dark blue vest. He had folded his sleeves just below his biceps. He also left out his coat since it was way too hot for coats. He just looked like a model about to walk on ramps. As graceful as you can think of.

"Thanks Jhanvi. Wese tum log betho. Mujhe to khatirdari karni hogi or sab dosto ki. Host with the most don't you know," he laughed with a sly wink. I nearly melted.

"The phrase is _hostess_ with the most-ess," Nakul pointed out.

"Oh don't _start_," Daya groaned, "Bhot logo ne yeh phrase correct karwaya hai! Anyways, be right back!"

He skipped off, grabbing a glass of something from a tray as he went. Now Daya was gone I had the chance to get a good look at our surroundings. There were a lot more people than I had anticipated. He'd said a few friends from bureau and outside. I wanted to know how many people he was friends with if this was a _few_. I grabbed a glass off one of the trays around the room. Nakul shot me a glare.

"It's only one glass," I defended, innocently shrugging my shoulders.

It didn't take Nakul long to spot the only people in the room we knew. Daya and Abhijeet's fellow team member's Pankaj and Kavin, stood talking to one side of the room, along with a tall boy with sleek look. Nakul literally bounded over to them, leaving me to totter slowly on my heels, which might I add, I'd never been particularly good with.

"Are Jhanvi!" Kavin grinned, giving me a very unexpected hug, "Bhot dino ke baad mili ho. Kesi ho tum?

"Bas thik hu," I replied politely. Purvi gave a little wave of her hand, to signify she wasn't ignoring me. I'd only met them all a few times before, but I knew them well enough to know Purvi was just about as talkative as a tree.

"Nakul tum bhi aye ho, wow," Kavin continued, holding out his hand, "New hairstyle, double wow."  
Did I forget to mention Nakul had traded his black and purple stripe in for an all over chocolate colour? Well he had, opting for a more 'reserved' look as he called it. Nakul blanked the compliment, and just stared at the hand Nakulwas offering out.

"No hug?"

"Maine itni bhi nehi pi hai ke tujhe _hug_ karu," Kavin laughed as Nakul gave in and shook his hand nevertheless.  
"Nakul, Jhanvi, this is inspector Sachin , Daya or Abhijeet ka ek or acha dost," he said, gesturing to the tall guy.

"Hey," Sachin smiled shyly.

Looking over at Nakul, I could see that familiar glassy look cloud over his eyes. Kavin noticed it to and stepped in before Nakul could leap on the stranger, who had clearly lived in the bureau with the duos, I can tell. Sachin had the same general serious look about him, and I was almost sure some of the skills are similar too.

"Nakul bhai, he's straight."

"Future kisne dekha hai?" Nakul beamed. Pankaj rolled his eyes.

"Uhm, ap sab se milkar acha laga!" Sachin hurried, already planning his escape route, "I'm going to excuse myself. Dekhta hu kahi Sir ko kisi cheez ki zarurat pari to... drinks or food."

Kavin laughed and shook his head.  
"So," he said turning to me, "Sir ko pata liya ya nehi?"

I might as well take this opportunity to mention, the others who knew me in the bureau didn't know about the incident. No-one but the best friends, myself, and Nakul did. As far as they knew, the day I'd spent with them was a genuine interview, with no secret plot to bed and expose their Senior Inspector to scandal. It was just unfortunate that I happened to be sacked before I could write the interview.

"Abhi tak to nehi," Nakul jumped in.

"Yeh Sir bhi na, kabhi bhi larkiyo ke bare me forward nehi hote! Humesha sharmile type, jese ki khud larki ban gaye ho! Unko itni achi hur bhi nazar nehi ati! Bhot sharam ki baat hai!" Pankaj teased playfully, slipping a well muscled arm around my waist.

I knew he was just poking fun at me, but there was no doubt he'd been drinking. Daya had always told me to watch him. According to he who knows all, Pankaj was a party animal and was always getting himself into some sort of trouble.

"Aww, yeh apka barappan hai" I began politely, "But I..."

And then, as if he had appeared out of thin air, Daya was there.

"Aree yar Pankaj," he panted, "Ek kaam karde yar, yar me bhot thak gaya hu logo ko drinks or snacks de de kar. Tu jake check kar na drinks finish ho rahi hai ki nehi?"

"Ha sir," the inspector complied, letting go of my waist before disappearing into the kitchen.

With what I was sure was a look of smug satisfaction, Daya wandered off onto the little balcony, a packet of cigarettes in his hand.

"Has kyu rahe ho?" Nakul asked Kavin.

"Main? Nehi to..."

With a little knowing smile at me, Kavin excused himself and disappeared off to talk to someone else, leaving me and Nakul once again on our own.

"Sab chup chap tab has rahe hote hai..." he whispered, "Jab koi khichdi pak rahi hoti hai."

I laughed as the little tower of plastic champagne glasses toppled over again. It never ceased to amaze me how me and Nakul managed to amuse ourselves. The alcohol helped. The glass pyramid was pretty.

I told Nakul not to allow me to drink, I always drink too much. But I'm glad he did. I felt good.

I didn't know how much I'd drunk. It was more than I probably should. But it didn't matter. Nakul would look after me. So would Daya.

Daya looks handsome tonight. Daya always looks handsome. It's not fair. Someone should tell him he looks handsome. I should tell him he looks handsome.

Getting to my feet was difficult, the floor was so wobbly. I should tell Daya his floor needs fixing too.

"Kaha ja rahi ho, talli girl?" Nakul asked.

"I want to talk to Daya," I announced, grabbing the seat to stop the wobbly floor.

"I'm coming too," he said, getting to his feet. Nakul was always so nice to me. I'm glad he's my friend.

Daya was talking to his friend Sachin. His friend's handsome too. Not handsome like Daya. No-ones handsome like Daya, except Daya of course.

"Party bhot achi hai Daya ji," Nakul complimented when we got across the room.

"Tumhara floor itna hil raha hai," I huffed, grabbing onto Nakul to steady myself.

"Mera floor nehi balki tum hil rahi ho Jhanvi," Daya chuckled before turning to Nakul, "Kitna piya isne?"

"Mat pucho," Nakul sighed.

"I'm not drunk!" I protested.

"I think she is," Sachin pointed out, grinning. I think Sachu found me funny. That's not very nice.

"I'm not. Mujhe to lagta hai tumhe jalan ho rahi hai..."

My words didn't come out right. Nakul had his hand over my mouth. That was very silly. How am I supposed to tell Sachu that he was just jealous he wasn't as handsome as Daya if his hand was over my mouth.

Nakul apologised to Daya and Sachu and carried me back to the seats. The floor wasn't wobbly when Nakul carried me. That wasn't very fair.

I didn't feel so good any more but I was happy when Daya came over to talk to us a bit later.

I put my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. I was sleepy. His shoulder wasn't a very good pillow. That's silly. Daya should have nice pillow shoulders for me to sleep on.

"Tumhare kandhe pillow ke tarah nehi hai," I complained.

"Maybe you should think about getting a proper pillow?" he laughed.

"No, I don't want a pillow. Pillow's aren't handsome like you."

"Just stop talking Jhanvi," Nakul warned.

"What?"

"Pillow's aren't handsome like you," I said again.

"You think I'm handsome?" He asked, sounding surprised. Silly Daya, he's bound to know he's handsome.

"Very, very handsome."

I was happy. I had told Daya he was handsome.

Daya's shoulder didn't make a bad pillow after all.  
"Good night handsome Daya," I yawned.


	3. Chapter 3

**God the reviews always kept me going, they are that good and powerful! Btw I got a question, Do you guys prefer a crossover to this story? Pehle sab yeh batao kis kisne****_ Star Trek into the Darkness_**** movie dekhi hai? If many of you have, I might just do a little crossover trick to this story! Because its going to explode into a big bang! What am I talking about? Read this chapter and you will completely understand! Anyways its time for me to shut up... enjoy enjoy!**

I was dead. I had to be.

No-one's head was meant to hurt this much. It was as if someone had mashed my head into a pulp using a fire extinguisher. Every one of my limbs felt as though they had been turned into lead, and I just wanted to die.

That was if I wasn't in fact already dead.

My dry mouth cried out for a drink, so I decided to brave whatever pains my body had to make it into the kitchen.

Opening my eyes wasn't as bad as I had expected, the curtains were keeping out most of the light that would certainly blind my sensitive eyes.

Then it occurred to me. _I don't have curtains. _

Fumbling around for my glasses in the semi-darkness I began to panic as I realised that I wasn't in my own bed. When I found them I crammed them onto my face and looked around, my eyes heavy and hurting, like my head.

The room was very bare, decorated plainly in cream and chocolate colours. I looked down at myself, having thrown the comfortable duvet off my body. I was wearing a purple dress, which stuck to my skin in places. I recognised the belt and shoes on the floor to also be my own.

My heart was hammering as I tried desperately to remember the previous night, searching for any clue as to where I was.

Suddenly, the anxiety triggered an unpleasant lurch in my stomach. I knew the warning signs, and hopped out of bed as fast as I could. Wherever the hell I was, I was lucky enough to have a bathroom attached to this room. Without going into too much unpleasant detail, I emptied the contents of my stomach down the toilet. Trembling, with a sheet of cold sweat glistening on my forehead, I washed up, rinsing the unpleasant taste from my mouth and splashing some water on my face and neck. Physically, I felt a little better than before. My nerves however, were still knotted, since I was still unable to remember where I was.

Then, as if remembering some long forgotten dream, images of a party began to flash through my head. I could see Daya, and Nakul, Abhijeet, Kavin, Pankaj and many other nameless people. I looked at my shoes that lay beside the bed and could remember putting them on my feet as I got ready to go to my sweetest friend's birthday party.

Relief flooded over me as I was now aware of where I was, and that I was safe, and in the company of CID officers.

I left the little bathroom and began to explore outside the bedroom, my bare feet padding quietly on the wooden floor of the penthouse. The hall was much lighter than my room, and I blinked in the painful light.

Used glasses, trays of half consumed food and other litter covered the surfaces of tables and windowsills. I half expected the guys to still be asleep, knowing their reputation to sleeping until the late afternoon. To my surprise, as I walked into the kitchen, I clocked a rather dishevelled looking Daya slumped over the kitchen table. He was holding his head in his hands. Over in the corner of the room, a kettle was slowly beginning to boil. The floor creaked beneath my feet as I approached, causing him to look around at me.

It was quite a shock to the system to see the normally so well turned out Senior Inspector Daya, looking as though he'd just been caught in a washing machine. His hair was tatted and messy, hanging limp over his face. A puffy face and shirt isn't fully tucked in his pants, along with his vest completely unbuttoned. His usually bright and sparkling eyes were bloodshot and heavy looking.

"Aj ke baad mere ghar pe koi party nehi hogi," he groaned, pressing one of his palms into his eyes to rub away remaining sleep. The kettle behind him clicked and Daya stood up slowly from the seat. He left the room for a while and came back wearing a loose long sleeved t-shirt, with loose drawstring trousers, that were too short for him, revealing pale feet and muscled ankles. He shuffled across the kitchen.

"Breakfast?" he asked blearily.

"Coffee," I managed, "Please."

When he was finished he set the cup down along with a little blister pack of tablets.

"Sar dard kar raha hai, tablet shayad help kare. Wese kal tumne itni sharab kyu pi Jhanvi?"

"Itna ki aj mujhe do minute tak yaad nehi araha tha ki mai kaha hu," I admitted sheepishly, before taking a sip of the hot beverage, savouring the slightly bitter, yet sweet taste. He'd remembered the sugar.

"God Jhanvi, do you even remember the party?" he asked a little perplexed.

"Not much after I started to drink. Drink se yaad aya, me tumhare bed pe kya kar rhi thi?"

"Woh mera bed nehi hai."

"You know what I mean," I grumbled.

"You passed out," he began, "Or itni raat ko Nakul akela tumhe kese le jata, isliye ek spare room tha to woh de diya tumhe. Plus, he wasn't keen on leaving you drunk on your own, because he had to go to something this morning to take photos."

"Oh yeah," I mused as I remembered. We sat in silence for a few minutes sipping absently at our coffee's.

"Is there anyone I should apologise to?" I asked eventually with a sigh, "Kal raat kya hua tha, kya mene kuch galat to nehi kiya kisi ke saath, kuch galat to nehi kaha kisiko?"

Daya avoided my eyes for a moment, making me hold my breath in anticipation of something dreadful.

"Tumne mujhe... handsome kaha, repeatedly," he mumbled.  
Half of me was relieved that I hadn't done anything more serious in my intoxicated state of mind. The other part, however, was cringing. Sure, my lips had spoken the truth, but I wasn't exactly keen on sharing it willingly.

"Sorry," I winced.

"S'ok," he murmured, "Offending baat to hai nehi yeh."

I nodded, too tired and hung-over to care more about the matter. It was innocent enough, he could have perceived it as taking the piss anyhow.

"Jhanvi...can I... mujhe tumse ek zaruri baat kehni hai?"

My heart missed a beat. That sentence was the most common relationship killer known to man. I had to stop to correct myself though. For Daya to be ending a relationship, we would have had to be in a relationship in the first place. Still, I felt a little nervous.

"Sure," I replied, as calmly as I could, "Bolo kya baat hai."

"Woh paise ke bare me. I've been thinking..."

"Hey bhagwan mera din manhus shakal dekh ke shuru hoga aj!" snorted a voice. We both looked up to see Abhijeet standing in the doorway. I did everything in my will power to stop my jaw hitting the floor. It was the first time that I'd seen Abhijeet without his coat and formal suit. In fact, he was looking really good with loose t-shirt and baggy jeans. Enough to stop Tarika on tracks.

"Chup raho yar subah subah mood kharab mat karo," Daya snapped, shooting his friend a glare. I was just wondering how he is he still in Daya's house. Maybe he stayed overnight! I shrugged off the thought.

"Morning Abhijeet," I greeted politely.

He grunted in response. The spell that had been woven by the sight of his perfectly formed body was broken as it dawned on me, no matter how good he looked, he was still an asshole.

Abhijeet rattled noisily around the kitchen, throwing together a plate of food. As he waited for the kettle to re-boil, he poised himself up against the marble top counter, his arms folded across his chest. I caught a sly look flicker across Daya's face.

"Esa kya dekh rehi ho use, woh Tarika ka permanently ho chukka hai," he smirked.

"What?" puzzled Abhijeet, having been caught off guard. Then, as it sank in, he rolled his eyes.  
"Agar meri kisi ko zarurat hogi," He announced, "Main ander milunga. I'm going back to bed." So he is living in Daya's house.

"Tarika bula nehi rehi kya abhi, chale jao uske pas!" Daya yelled after him as his bestfriend carried his food and coffee back to his room.

"Chup reh Daya," Abhijeet shouted back, before slamming the door to his room. I sniggered into my drink.

"Pata nehi use ho kya gaya hai," Daya sighed, glaring up the hall, "He's being such an ass."

"PMT?" I suggested.

"...Kya?"

"Never mind," I breathed, not going to be bothered to explain the joke. That would just ruin it.

"Ha to me keh raha tha?" Daya asked himself, "Oh yeah, Paise. Main wahi kal rat ko tumhare paise ke problem ke bare me soch raha tha ki mere dimag me jhat se ek toofani idea aya."

He was grinning from ear to ear again, and I couldn't help but smile myself. It was infectious.

"Toofani idea, batao kya toofani idea hai tumhare dimag me?"

"Hm, usse pehle me tumhare humare jo abhi case chal raha hai Bureau me uske bare me kuch detail bata dena chahta hu, kyuki its related to what I've come up with, dekho humara jo case hai woh bohot hi pechila hai jiske wajah se hum sab ka, even humare DCP or khabriyo ke dimag me bhi tala lag chukka hai. Yeh case hai ek high profile racket ka," he added, pausing to take a well needed breath of air. He was speaking so fast.

"High profile case hai jisme serial murder ka case involve hai. It has to do with INTERPOL. A racket jisme human trafficking, mostly larkiyo ko becha ja rha hai. Or uska teen chauthai hissa India or Pakistan jese desho me ho raha hai. Yeh humara new assignment tab se ban gaya hai jabse humare hi Mumbai me sattar se bhi upar nabalik larkiya teen hafto me lapata ho gayi hai. Humare khabriyo ke team or sub inspectors and local constable ke team ne yeh pata lagaya hai ki, bhot international agents India, khaskar Mumbai or Delhi ate hai ese larkiyo ko lene. Or woh international Agents koi na koi get up leke zaroor ate hai. Kabhi Music Concert karne ke naam pe. Kabhi koi Internation Band ke nam pe. Hum bas zyada se zyada log ikatha kar rahe hai jo hume intak pocha sake taki hum or INTERPOL police yeh sab solve kar sake."

He took a deep breath and sipped his brew.  
"We were thinking, yeh Daya ka hi idea tha ki hum bhi isi tarah operate kare jis tarah yeh sab agents operate karte hai, nakli musical band banke. ACP sir to khud Canada gaye hue hai is case ko ache se pata lagane ke liye, DCP sir ki to baat hi mat karo unse to koi kam dhang se nehi hoti, reh gaye hum, hum soch rahe the ki ek musical band banai jisme ki photographers videographers ho, sab nakli. Taki hum wahi sab dekh sake jo actual me ho raha hai. Or yeh sab faisla abhi tak ho rakha hai, ki hum koi ek international tour karenge or wahi jainge jaha yeh sare nakli musical group jati hai. Ab baari ayi tumhare paise ke problem ko leke to me soch raha tha ki agar tum bhi isme jur jao or hume help karo, ek secret photographer or intervier banke to acha hoga, haina good idea, you know, good for the team. So I was wondering if you and Nakul would like to join us on tour and manage the tour diaries, nakli tour diaries. Saath saath tum dono milke un sab pe nazar rakho jab hum maujud nehi honge. Ab batao, kya khayal he mere is toofani sunami idea ke bare me?"

Words failed me.

" Ab tum sochogi," Daya continued without leaving me room to reply, "Kon rehna chahega ese larai jhagra karne wale team me jo humesha hi khatro se khelti ho. Par tum uski fikar mat karo, tumhare liye ek or bus ka intezaam kar dunga me, jo bhi other volunteers hai jo ki CID department se nehi hai woh sab dusre buses se ayenge or jainge taki unki safety ko kuch bhi na ho. The other time we'll be in hotels. You'll get all your food, and accommodation, on one of the buses and in the hotels or wherever we end up. You'll also get a bit of money for doing it. Saath hi me yeh soch raha tha ki tum jab tak humare saath rahoge tab tak apne apartment ko rent pe bhi rakh sakoge taki tum logo ko or paise mil jai. You could _also_ put the work down on your CV and that would give you extra credentials to help you get a full time job. So... Kya khayal hai, kuch bolo bhi?"

I paused, as all the information trickled slowly into the foggy places of my brain. It was a well thought out plan, with nothing but positives for me and Nakul. With money the way it was, I would be a first class idiot to turn down the offer.

"Pehli baat to yeh hai," I began, "Ki tum bohot bak bak karte ho."

"Jhanvi," he groaned.

"Secondly, I have to say, tumhara dimag me itna acha idea aya kaha se?"

"I know," Daya grinned, "I'm a genius."

"Thirdly..."

"Manzoor hai?"

"Can I get a word in please?" I asked with a slight glare.

"Sorry, go ahead."

"I'll need to talk to Nakul about it. Par mujhe to yeh idea sach me acha lag raha hai."

"See, I'm not just a 'handsome' face," he winked. I rolled my eyes at his dig at my alcohol fuelled antics.

Standing up, I took my empty coffee mug and set it beside the sink, along with an assortment of dirty dishes.

Come to think of it, dirty dishes of some description covered most surface of the house. The aftermath of the party only now became apparent as I looked around at the mess.

"Tumhara ghar bhot hi messy ho gaya hai," I exhaled, looking over at Daya. He whimpered.

"Pata hai mujhe."

Then, opening his eyes really wide and blinking furiously, be stuck out his bottom lip in my direction like a small dog. I'd seen this face before. Nothing good could ever come from that face.

"Jhanvi..."

I sighed.  
"Do you want some help?" I asked, before he could request it.

"Ha yar, I'd love you forever if you help me," he breathed in relief.

_If only._

"Okay," I complied, putting my hands on my hips, "Kaha se shuru kare?"


	4. Chapter 4

**The reviews are great, so two chapter a day! Anyways I am so called 'building' the structure of this story...you'll find out more. Abhi ke liye! Jhanvi and Nakul are about to start their new lives! Anyways enjoy enjoy! And yeah the reviews are so superb so so superb! I love it! Thank every single one of you! ^.^**

There was a little twinge in my stomach as I folded up the t-shirt and set it into the suitcase. It was the same sort of twinge that I used to get on Diwali breaks, when I have the feeling that I would get the day before going on holidays with my parents and brothers. It was excitement.

Living out of a bus and hotel rooms for the next two months wasn't exactly my idea of heaven, especially when I was going to be living with a bunch of strangers, fighting with mighty criminal and more. But it was frankly, our only option of living. An added bonus was that I would get to spend more time with Daya. One small setback would be that I would also be spending time with Abhijeet, who didn't even attempt to hide the fact that he didn't like me very much. I'd even overheard Abhijeet picking a fight with Daya over inviting me and Nakul on tour without consulting him.

Daya and I had been cleaning at the time, and Abhijeet had come in and literally grabbed Daya by the scruff of the neck and dragged him into another room where they had their 'discussion' as he had called it. It wasn't like I had _deliberately_ overheard them, I wasn't eavesdropping. The bin just happened to be over beside the door, and they just happened to be arguing very loudly.

Abhijeet wasn't happy about Nakul coming along either, that Nakul would create 'unwanted tension' among everyone when they'll be fighting nasty people. Daya snapped back at Abhijeet that he was the only one that would be uncomfortable because he 'refused to accept another person's sexuality'. My name was mentioned once or twice but I could never catch what was being said. Perhaps it was best that way. My mother always would tell me that an eavesdropper would never hear anything positive about themselves.

Daya won, because Daya was boss. I didn't like being the cause of a riff between the duos, I knew they were close. However, I couldn't change the past, and Abhijeet would just have to get used to me whether he liked me or not.

The phone on my bedside table began to buzz. Accepting the call with a smile I put the phone to my ear.

"Darpok sher," I teased.

"Mujhe Nakul se baat karne ka bilkul bhi man nehi tha," Daya growled from the other end, "So landline se phone nehi kiya. I need to talk yar."

"Shoot," I said, settling down onto my bed, anticipating a long phone conversation.

I was right. Given the opportunity Daya could talk you into a coma, and this was such an occasion. There was, however, something not quite right about the conversation. Yes Daya was prone to complaining about his best friend, but never _this_ much.

"...Jhanvi tum sun rahi ho na," he snapped suddenly. I was ashamed to admit that I hadn't been paying attention, I'd just been listening to his voice. I'd decided that his voice could be compared to chocolate. It was so smooth and husky.

"Yeah, of course," I lied, sitting up straight to wake myself up.

"Good. Now... where was I? Oh yes. And he's so god damn _stubborn_! Bhot hi zyada ziddi or bewakuf. Seriously, it's his way, or no way at all. There's absolutely no compromising with him. Bande ko itni bhi tamiz nehi ki kisi or ki bhi sune! Har mamle me apna tang ese arayega jese koi tees maar khan ho, use pata nehi tumse kya dushmani ho rahi ha. Main manta hu ki jo bhi past me hua woh thik nehi tha par fir bhi yar. Tumne jo kiya mere saath kiya na uski kyu fat rahi hai. He fusses mainly about you and Nakul coming along which is totally ridiculous, I can see _no_ reason why..."

"I can," I mumbled.

"What?"

"I can," I repeated, "Woh bohot protective hai tumhare bare me, jo bhi hua, ab woh tumhe or dukhi nehi dekh sakta isliye tumhe mujhse bacha raha hai."

Daya paused and I cringed at having just made the conversation awkward.

"...well maine kaha na uske saath to kuch nehi hua to use kya problem hai."

"I know but you have to see it from his point of view..."

"Tum mere taraf ho ya uske taraf?!" Daya snapped crossly with a hard voice. And that is why I didn't much like talking to Daya when he was upset or angry. His voice would sound twenty times more serious and loud.

"Me kisi ke taraf me nehi hu Daya," I defended, "I'm trying to be neutral here. He's just concerned for you."

"He doesn't have to hold my hand all the fucking time; I'm a grown man for god's sake!"

I was unable to hide my snigger as he used the F word, which would be a rare case. Daya cross was never threatening, on the contrary, he was actually quite funny. The only time I'd been scared of Daya was back in December when he'd kicked me out of his hotel room after discovering that I'd tried to set him up for a magazine article.

"Has rahi ho, Jhanvi tum has rahi ho! Kya yaar!" he demanded.

"Esa kuch nehi hai," I giggled, "You're just so cute when you're angry."  
He paused for a second.  
"Ugh, whatever," he groaned.

Then it hit me, the reason he had been complaining about his best friend so much more than usual. Abhijeet wasn't the problem. Abhijeet was the cover story.

"Daya," I asked, "Are you nervous about the project?"  
There was silence at the other end of the phone. Daya cleared his throat, then whimpered out softly, "Main dara hua hu Jhanvi."

Smiling, I settled back down onto the bed. Now the conversation would begin again, only this time, it would be with the real reasons that he needed to talk about. He's as tuff as coconut shell, but at times he can whimper just like a five year old.  
"Daro mat Daya, kisi ko kuch nehi hoga. Mujhe bhi nehi! Sab kuch bohot asani se solve ho jaiga!"

"Pata nehi, mai bas soch raha hu, kahi tum sabko khatre me to nehi dal raha hu! I can't lose you!"

My heart skipped a bit. He cleared his throat again as if to clear his sentence.

"Tum meri bohot achi dost ho!" He finished with a gulp. I sulked back.  
Thank god he called _me_. There was no way I could afford the conversation if I had to call Daya from my phone.

Our final port of call before heading off with the team on the so called tour was to visit my parent's house. Everything that we weren't taking on tour with us, and wasn't essential for keeping in the flat would go into storage at my parents house. We'd taken up Daya's rather ingenious idea to rent out our flat while we were away so we would have to leave it as if it was brand new.

My mother came to help us transport the stuff back to their place, since neither Nakul nor I could drive, or even possessed a car. When I saw her car pull into the car park of the building, I ran down the flights of stairs to meet her. We'd always been pretty close. She threw her arms around me and kissed me on the forehead.

"Kesi hai Jhanvi?" she enthused.

"Thik hu Ma," I replied with a grin. Sure, it was partly a lie, I don't need to remind you about our situation but I didn't want mum to know. I didn't want her to be disappointed in me or be worried about the actual reason we are going to the tour. True that we will be surrounded by team of protective Police officers but mothers are always so sensitive, they'd never allow risks for their children.

"Mera teesra beta kidher gaya?" she laughed. It was our pet name for Nakul. In the two last years of college till now Nakul had spent more time at our house than he would have at his own. We'd been his sanctuary when his relationship with his parents fell through after his 'coming out'. Therefore, mum would always regard him as the extra member of the family, her 'teesra beta'.

"Ma woh apne suitcase lagane ki koshish kar rha hai, suitcase me nehi at rahe hai fir bhi woh utne hi kapre lega tour ke liye."

"Ha agaya woh," she agreed with a smile.

After everything was in the car we set off on the hour long drive to my parent's house. When we got there, my dad was waiting on the front door step to greet us.

"Jhanvi meri jaan beti," he chuckled ruffling his hand through my hair as if I was still five years old.

"Papa," I moaned, fixing my glasses back into place. I secretly liked it, it brought back a feeling of familiarity. Same old house, same old parents. It was how I remembered home, and it was how I liked it.

Once everything was safely stored away in the garage, we all gathered around the table to eat dinner. All that is, except for my two younger brothers. They were off gallivanting with friends. I _had_ seen them for a bit while they helped Nakul, Dad and me store our belongings. Even though they were the same annoying brats they always had been, it would have been nice to talk to them a bit more, find out what was going on in their lives. Then again, they were teenage boys. I had nearly died when Vishal, the yongest, had first opened his mouth to speak to me, because his voice had dropped about an octave.

"Or mujhe damad chahiye, tum dono ke liye. Tum dhundoge ya me dhundu?" Mum asked casually as she doled out the rajma onto our plates.

Nakul and I exchanged glances then burst out laughing.

"Ma," Christian chuckled, "Me to abhi bhi talaash kar raha hu kisi ache larke ka. Par, Jhanvi ko..."

He trailed off, giving me a sideways glance.

"Kon?!" asked my parents both at once. Mum's voice was excited and chipper, Dad's however, sounded as though all it would take was for me to utter a name and he would have the Mafia hunting the particular individual down. I wanted to see the reaction of my father's face if I utter the name. The guy is moreover a man who chews Mafias for breakfast.

Come to think of it, I was just as curious as they were to the guy that Nakul spoke of.

"Ha bol Nakul, kon?" I uttered, raising an eyebrow at him.

He rolled his eyes.  
"God Jhanvi drama queen... Ma uska naam Daya hai!"

"Yeh woh CID inspector haina, jisko tum dono ne interview kiya tha jab tum GlamGoss me kaam karti the, wese tum un sab ke saath hi ja rhe ho na holiday tour ke liye?" Mum pried.

"Ha wahi," I muttered nonchalantly, "Bas ma zyada khas kuch nehi ha... yeh Nakul to baat ka batangar..."

"Jhut mat bol Jhanvi," Nakul groaned, "Ma, main ise ache se jaanta hu, yeh na usse bohot pyaar karti hai, humesha Daya Daya krti rehti hai."

Uneasily, Dad cleared his throat and I cringed.

"Acha, kuch bata na Daya ke bare me, kesa hai woh. Wese to CID officer hai to bhot hi immandar, acha or sanskari to hoga!" persisted Mum.

"Ma, hum bas dost hai or kuch nehi!" I explained, waving my hand to signal that was the end of the discussion. There was no discussion on that matter; we were friends, end of story.

"Chup kar Jhanvi, ma Daya bhot hi handsome hai," Nakul blurted, "Agar woh is pagal Jhanvi ko bhaw na deta to me to use pata leta."

"Dono ko larke pasand hai, to dono decide karo kise chahiye!" My mother laughed, and I turned my attention back to my food, thinking that the conversation was over. Nakul, on the other hand, had another thing in mind.

"Tumhe pata hai ma us raat ko Daya ke birthday pe jab Jhanvi nashe me..."

"Nakul!" I choked, kicking him under the table. I was mortified as both my parents turned to gape at me. Mum was the only one that knew I had a tendency to over drink, and that was only because she had caught me throwing up in the bathroom once after a night out. I'd promised her I'd never do it again.

"Woh actually us ek drink me na bohot alcohol content tha, use to pata bhi nehi tha," Nakul lied quickly, saving my ass quite convincingly, "Use to pata bhi nehi ki Champagne me actually alcohol hota bhi hai. But anyway, woh nashe me dhut thi or wahi so gayi sofe pe or us halat me mai use kese ghar le jata itni raat ko... usse to chala bhi nehi ja rha tha. Tabhi Daya ko idea aya ki uske ghar me ek or karma khali hai jo ki woh use nehi karta. Oh, my, God it was the cutest thing I have ever seen. Daya ne Jhanvi ko kitne pyaar se uthaya apne bahon me or use uske dusre kamre me sula diya, haina woh bhot hi zyada caring."

Dad gave another one of his awkward coughs, while Mum made an 'aww' sound.

My face had gone a shade of crimson I was so embarrassed. No-one had told me _that_ part of the story, and to find out with my parents both listening in was completely humiliating, especially after this Satyawadi Harishchandra( I am talking about Nakul) had admitted to them that'd I had passed out from alcohol consumption.

The rest of the evening couldn't go fast enough.

Mum drove us back into the city that night. Nakul bounded ahead, up the stairs to our flat, but mum made me stay behind.

"Kitne din ka tour hai?" she enquired, leaning her arm on the open door of the car.

"Ek ya do mahine, ab pay roll pe depend karta hai!" I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

"Apna dhyan rakhna Jhanvi or Nakul, CID officer's ache to hai par bhot khatro se jujhte hai, pata nehi kya musibaat a pare. Thik se rehna tum dono. Please?"

"Ma ap..." I sighed, raising my eyes to the heavens.

"Mujhe pata hai tum bari ho gayi ho, it's just, mujhe CID officer's ke saath jo yeh roz problems chalte hai, in sab se dar lagta hai, tum dhyaan rakhogi na?"

"Ma, I'll be fine," I assured her, "Or wese bhi, Nakul hai na mere saath. Woh mera dhyaan to rakhega hi, Ap please chinta mat karo!"

"Pata hai Nakul hai," she sighed as she came over and placed her arms around me in a hug, kissing me on the forehead.  
"Just take care. Phone karna mujhe, din me jitney baar ho sake utne baar phone karna, or Daya ke bare me bhi agar kuch ho to bata na."

"Thik hai," I giggled, feeling too placid to rise to her insinuation that we were more than friends. I gave her a little squeeze.

I waved her off, waiting until she was out of sight before joining Nakul in the flat. Without all the boxes and things, out little abode looked bare and lonely. All our worldly belongings were packed away to bring on tour, or stored away at my parents house. Another pang hit me in my gut as I realised we would be leaving tomorrow. Half of me wanted to run around screaming and jumping with excitement. The other part of me felt a bit nauseous.

Too anxious to sleep I repacked my suitcase, leaving out a set of clothing to wear the next morning. I paced up and down the room, listening to my iPod, trying to wear myself out, but it was to no avail. Nakul was already fast asleep and wouldn't wake for another eight hours even if you placed a bomb under his bed. With a sigh I flopped down onto my bed and got my phone out. Dialling one of the few numbers I had committed to memory I waited as it rang.

"Hello?" Daya answered.

"So rehe ho?" I asked.

"Kya lag raha hai tumhe..."

"Neend a rahi hai?"

"Nehi..."

"Busy ho?"

"Nehi..."

"Can we talk for a bit? I'm so bored."

"Sure," he said, and even on the other end of a phone I was sure I could hear him smile.

Daya and I talked that night until about two in the morning before we finally decided to call it a night. The conversation was never one of any great significance. I don't even remember what we'd talked about. We never really had earth shatteringly intellectual conversations together, I wasn't smart enough for that. We simply talked about our favourite things, our life experiences, our memories, and whatever else spontaneously popped into our heads.

That morning my alarm clock woke me at the unholy time of nine a.m. I had never purchased an alarm clock in my life, that had come free with Nakul. He the heaviest sleeper I knew, yet the most prompt at waking up. His body clock was so precise he was guaranteed to wake up at half eight. He had decided that this morning, I would be best woken if he took a running jump at me. I didn't see him do it, but I felt him land on top of me with much more force than I deemed him possible of possessing. I was unpleasantly ripped from dream world and thrust into reality. Bolting upright I looked around wildly at the blurry shapes of my room.

"Jhanvi uth! Today! It's today it's today!" he sang, and I could see the blur that belonged to him roll off my bed and begin to skip around my room. There was a sense of déjà-vu at his choice of words. It reminded me of the morning he'd woken me up all those months ago when we had conducted a false interview with the team. I hoped that it wasn't a sign that things would play out exactly the same, and end badly.

I put on my glasses and tumbled out of bed, somehow managing to make my way into the shower, another similarity of that fateful day six months ago. I took as long as I could possibly take in the shower, savouring the familiarity of it, preparing myself for a month without familiarity. Sleeping in a new hotel every few days, spending my time in a bus with complete strangers, fighting crimes, going detective 24/7 and the list of new things I would experience was endless.

Daya had told me that he'd arranged for us to be picked up, since neither of us could drive and he insisted on not spending the price for a taxi. He also told us to pick up a licensed Gun. It would keep us safe. Knowing how to operate a gun wasn't so tuff. But aiming it to a right place is. Daya had once taught me to shoot and I bet he is pretty much relying on me to remember the lesson.

Nakul had an enviable amount of energy as he bounced around the place, murdering a song cheerfully with his less than desirable vocal chords. Nevertheless I left him to it, he was excited. Don't get me wrong, I was excited too. I was also sick with nerves. I liked routine, but knew that there would be nothing like that on this tour, it would be totally random. Anything and everything can happen on this tour. Murder, hijack, kidnap, bombing, cross fire, tons of risky things you can think of. As long as the guys of CID are around, that was all that mattered. All too soon, an obviously bullet proof car arrived and it was impossible to delay any more. practically Nakul ran out of the room, somewhat weighed down by his endless amount of bags. He had to take two trips to bring them all down to the car that had arrived for us.

There was something very sorrowful about leaving the apartment. I knew that we would be coming back and I kept telling myself that we would but there was still a very sad feeling in my gut. I closed the door with a sigh and locked it. We'd arranged for an agency to look after the renting of our quaint apartment. Last we'd heard there were going to be some students letting it for the month or whatever, that we were away. I cringed at the thought of our little home being used for some outrageous house parties.

The tour had seemed a bit surreal, now we were leaving, it felt 100% real. I put my rucksack over my back and trundled my heavy suitcase along the hall and down the stairs, it's wheels hitting each step with a slap.

The sun that was peeking out through the clouds as I crossed the car park warmed my skin. There were two people that got out of the sleek black car that had come to pick us up. One was the driver, and the other introduced himself as Inspector Rajat, the head of security of tour buses and cars for the trip. Surprisingly there was more than enough room for us and our suitcases, even though Nakul seemed to have packed everything, including the kitchen sink. We got ourselves settled into the car and before we knew it we had set off, our destination is to tag along with CID, catching the Agents and rescuing the people. It was also where all the buses and trucks would be meeting and where we would be starting our tour from.  
Rajat turned around in his seat so that he was looking over his shoulder at us.

"Right guys, mujhe aplogo ko instruction dene ke liye kaha gaya hai kyuki ap sab humare saath rahoge. Pehle to ap dono ko ek police spare gun di jaingi jo sirf or sirf apni protection ke liye ap use karoge. I repeat sirf apne ap ko protect ke liye," he instructed rolling each word as if we are in a process of learning language. He handed both of us our respective guns with a slip that looked like license to me. I was awestruck. I mean I had seen real gun. Daya used to show his gun to me, with smugness in his tone that he gets to carry that thing whereas I don't! But actually holding one is not a kid job. I actually felt some stingy feeling as I held it with both my hands. I quicky tucked it between my jeans and hid it under my shirt, the way Daya used to do. Nakul did the same. Rajat looked at our faces carefully.

Nakul and I nodded in understanding.

"Okay, second instruction. Hum sab undercovered rahenge. Isliye ap log kisi ko nehi kahenge ki hum kon hai or ap kis wajah se ja rahe hai. Not friends, not family, not anyone, unless of course they have been allowed to know. You don't talk to other reporters, or any kind of press representatives about the team or what is happening in your and our lives or about the case. Ap logo ko hum koi ese informations de sakte hai jo ki bohot hi sensitive hai humare desh ke liye, ap kabhi bhi koi ese information leak nehi karenge. Or CID team ke kisi bhi member ke personal life ke baare me kisi bhi press representative ko kuch nehi kahenge. Chahe humare officers kisi ko date kare ya lare ya kuch bhi. Koi kuch nehi kahega!"

"Kon dating kar rha hai?" asked Nakul, sounding a little too enthusiastic for my liking.

"I'm not saying anything," Rajat corrected, "Yeh possibilities hai. You two are of course entitled to the security of the CID team as well. Humare team ko kisi bhi musibat se samna karna hoga, isliye hum chahte hai ki kam se kam musibate hume dekhne pare, isliye agar kabhi koi ap par pressure dale ya apko dhamkai to ap mujhe ya CID ke kisi bhi officer hai unko inform karenge ya call karenge. I'll be with the team most of time though so I suggest you go looking for another security officer before me. You don't accept any gifts or packages from any stranger woh bomb ya zeher ho sakta hai. Kyuki tour me humme se koi bhi app e nazar nehi rakh paiga, to apko khud hi yeh sab dekhna hoga. Or ap dono ko ek alag SIM diye jainge, international SIM jo koi bhi tower ko catch kar pai. Daya woh ap dono ko de dega!"

Rajat paused as we digested everything. I had never thought of all those things before, but now they had been mentioned they seemed logical enough. The CID team do live in danger. And then they had complete nut jobs that tried to throw themselves on remote places to fight dangerously dangerous criminals for the chance to protect innocent lives. And we are going to be a part of them for a while. We have to kind of do what they are doing for more than seventeen years.

"Sabse bari baat, ap logo ko humesha apne aakh or kaan dono khuli rakhne hai, shayad sote waqt bhi. If you use your head and stick to my suggestions, then we'll all have a good time and be over with the mission safely. Or rahi ki humare crew ki baat to, we are usually all great friends," he concluded with a smile turning back around.

"It'll be cool hanging out with the guys too," Nakul noted with a grin.

Rajat looked back over his shoulders. He laughed abruptly.  
"We don't have much free time, I doubt there'll be much hanging out."

I did a double take. Part of the reason that I'd agreed to take part in this tour was so that I could spend more time with Daya. If that was out of the question then it threw my whole plan for the next month into disorder. I wanted to spend time with him, he was my friend. But then again, I was here for a job, to make money so that Nakul and I could still live in the manner to which we had become accustomed. I had to prioritise, money came first.


	5. Chapter 5

**Whew! This took me a while...Sorry for the delay! I was too occupied with my work! Nyways please review..I think this chapter kinda gets boring for a while! But you know me well! I dont do anything without a meaning, right! So read it and review it! no kanjusi in reviews guys! ooolright! enjoy enjoy enjoy...oh and thank you so so so much everyone, Dreamprincess you too! The reviews are amazing! I cant believe my story is really that good to read! Ok I am shutting up now! Please read! **

It took two hours to drive to the hanger, two hours that I spent dozing, my iPod inserted in my ears. I was still groggy from last night, and the excitement from earlier had worn me down. My eyes drooped and then before I knew it Nakul was shaking me awake. Looking out the window I saw buses, trucks, Police patrol cars and people milling about the place. Rajat helped us take our bags and cases out of the car and pointed us in the direction of the crew buses. Some of the buses were colourfully decorated, to show they were buses of musical bands. There were more than four buses, as we were supposed to act like some band. Rajat showed us one of the crew bus where we were supposed to stay. As I was figuring out the thing, I saw the buses that the CID team will be travelling in. Our crew buses were, to be frank, shit compared to the two for the CID teams and their immediate entourage. No-one seemed to know what the hell was going on. We ended up on three different buses before we got onto the right one. They were cramped, with sixteen beds crammed into one double-decker bus, with a pitiful excuse for a lounge and kitchen. There was only one small toilet, and I dreaded to think what state it would be in after a week with sixteen people, let alone a month. Nakul was sleeping in the top bunk above me, and our bags went under my bottom bed. There were other people getting organised around us and I felt very self conscious. I couldn't imagine living with these fourteen other strangers for the next month, but I knew that I didn't have a choice. I was hunched in my little bunk, sorting out everything where I wanted it to be, so I knew how to get to it when I needed it, when someone called my name. Peeking out through the little curtain I caught sight of a really gorgeous rockstar. Daya, who was wearing loose black t-shirt and ripped jeans, was standing in the middle of our cramped bus. He had nicely trimmed his stubble into a French cut and wore a neon green framed shades. His grey beanie or wool cap gave him a really graphic look and was enough to make him look actually like a rockstar, instead of a Senior Inspector of CID. With a very sour look on his faces he manoeuvred around the cramped space to get to me. His both wrists were full of fancy bands, chains and emo-ish bracelets. His body is enormous to fit in the space of our bus.

"Yeh bus kitna _chota hai_," he whispered, "You going to be okay here?"

I shrugged my shoulders.  
"Ab desh ke logo ko bachane ke liye or mere paise ke problem ko dur karne ke liya itna to karna hi hoga, haina?"

He gave me a sympathetic smile as he mimicked my shoulder shrug.

"Acha yeh do passports hai, ise sambhal ke rakho, kabhi bhi zaroorat par sakti hai!" He handed me our passports. I turned and kept it neatly in my duffle bag.

The little curtain on Nakul's bunk flew back.  
"Hello handsome!" he sang, chipper as always.

Daya glared at him, before turning his attention back to me.

"Come on, mujhe tumhe kuch dikhana hai," he grinned, indicating for me to follow him. We walked out of the bus and across to the hanger where lots of strong looking men were standing about impatiently, as if waiting to be told what to do. They didn't look Indian to me. In through a door at the side, he led me, and I couldn't help but feel a little blown away by the sight that assaulted my eyes. It was a stage that they have hired to perform, all fake of course. But they still would perform something.

The stage layout was amazing. There were platforms, moving parts they were testing, countless hundreds of lights hung from rigs on the ceilings while stacks and stacks of amps were placed around the stage. It was breath taking.

"Wow," was literally all that I could manage. Now all that I wanted to do was see Daya and the others on it, doing what they've been rehearsed to do.

"Isn't it cool," he breathed, awestruck to a point himself.  
"Pata nehi kyu mujhe confidence mil raha hai tumhare saath rehke, I'm so glad you're here for this!"

He threw his arms around me in a hug and I knew as I returned his friendly and excited squeeze, that Rajat was wrong. I'd get to spend time with Daya if it killed me.

"Come on, main tumhe apna bus dikhata hu," he grinned, taking me by the hand and dragging me off. I had to jog to keep up with his long legs. Everything was a maze of trucks and buses, so I was amazed that Daya was able to find his bus without a second thought. He hit a button beside a door, which instantly obeyed him and opened.

The first thing I noticed as I stepped into the bus was the smell. It smelt like new car, or rather, new bus. Another thing was the vast increase in space. The chairs and sofas were comfortably laid out with spacious tables for doing whatever they had to do. The kitchen also dwarfed the one in the crew bus, which I saw no logic in since the smaller kitchen had to cater to residence almost three times the number that could sleep in this Bus. I tried not to dwell too long on the size and space differences, after all, Daya and the guys were something our country is proud of. Hell, they could afford it and they probably needed it to relax.

"Isn't it great," he beamed, extending his arms to show the lounge area on the bottom deck of the bus, "Yeh Abhijeet ka choise tha. Par bus acha hai! Hope hume ab koi problem nehi hogi! Pure desh me ghumna hai hume!"  
My jaw dropped, we are travelling the whole freaking country. Pankaj emerged into the bus and squealed like a boy with excitement.

"Jhanvi, haina humara bus ek dam jhakajhak?!" He shouted in excitement. Daya just rolled his eyes and started placing some of the luggage in bunkers. Pankaj began to play with all the little buttons that were located around the place. Lights flashed, things turned on and off and it wasn't until something started beeping that Pankaj stopped.

"Maine kuch nehi kiya!" he cried, backing away with his hands in the air.

"Ha ha, tune kuch nehi kiya, ab chup chap beth ja nehi to bhot sare injections le kar aya hu main, ek adhi tujhe bhi de dunga," said a middle aged man dryly, rolling his eyes as he poked his head out of the curtain that divided the driver's area from the rest of the bus. I looked at Daya, who was grinning.

"Yeh, Doctor Sarunkhe hai!" Daya introduced as the man waved at me with a broad smile. I gave a small wave of my hand to acknowledge his presence. He smiled in return before pointing in Pankaj's direction.

"Is nalayak pe nazar rakhna," he instructed me, shooting a glare at Pankaj, "Yeh bus brand new hai, agar yeh bus kharab hua to paidal puri India travel karna hoga."

"Sir main bus kharab nehi karunga, I shapat," Pankaj swore to the heavens. Daya muttered to himself, _Shuru ho gaye larai jhagre. _Then he nodded his head in the direction of the stairs to the upper level.  
"Come on, Main tumhe humare bunkers dikhata hu."

Upstairs was just as plush as the bottom level. Our bunks were nothing in comparison to these bunks. Where we had two bunks, sometimes three, stacked up on top of each other, Daya's bunk was the whole height of the deck, complete with shelves, cupboards, and a fifteen inch LCD screen T.V. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy wrap itself around my gut.

"Yeh wala bed mera hai," he said, brandishing his hand about as we walked slowly through the layer, "Or woh Abhijeet ka. Waha pe or do log so sakte hai. Then there's two back here for spare that we just use for storage. Tumhe pata hai yeh Abhijeet kitna saman lata hai, kahi hilne dulne ki jagah nehi hoti!"

I did a double take. Daya was so high maintenance that it seemed almost impossible for him to suggest he travelled lighter than his best friend.  
"Really?" I asked in surprise.

"Yeah, uske kapre, uske or tarika ke tasveere, pata kya kya lata rehta hai woh! Wese Tarika ke tasveer wali baat mene sirf tumhe batayi hai, use pata chalega to me to gaya." I sniggered.

"Par _items _sabse zyada kiske hai pure bus me?"

"Yeah, that's still me," he smiled, attempting a look of innocence. "What can I say, mujhe mere wardrobe ache lagte hai."

I giggled in response.

"Jhanvi?" called a voice I recognised all too well. Spinning around I saw Nakul bound up the stairs. He stopped at the sight.

"Oh my god, yeh sab kitna modern hai!" he complimented, looking all around. Then he snapped himself out of his little mind trip.  
"Jhanvi, our bus is going. The crew buses are setting off now, chale."

I smiled and shrugged at Daya. He nodded in understanding. I had to go.

"I'll see you later!" I called over my shoulder as I skipped down the stairs. A sudden wave of excitement hit me and I became giddy. There was a definite change in atmosphere as I climbed onto the bus for the second time that day. Everyone had been hit by the same natural high as me. The next month would be one of the best months of my life, I could just feel it. There was nothing that could bring me down. The door closed behind me and Nakul as we entered the bus. A few familiar faces that I'd seen before, arranging their things earlier, were seated around the lower lounge of the bus. Suddenly, there was a lurch and the bus was moving. Everyone hollered in appreciation and Nakul and I laughed as we joined in. We were off, on possibly one of the greatest adventures of our lives.

There was a buzzing in the air. We didn't know these people that we were sharing a bus with, they were relative strangers, but since everyone was in the same boat, there wasn't a problem. We sat down and started talking away to them immediately.

The conversation starter was obviously the tour; it was something that we could all relate to. How exciting it was, how we had gotten involved, and what we thought of the band. We were unanimous in deciding that we were working with one talented bunch of men. Daya, Abhijeet, ACP and Sachin, for all the age they were, were amazing. We learned each other's names, and what all the jobs were. They were all undercovered cops and detectives, some of them were photographers and whistleblowers. There was Mukesh, tall sturdy man in his early thirties; he was part of the under covered security squad, and his colleagues Raj and Rakesh. Then there was Sanya, Laxmi and Hannah, they were part of the local women's police team. Sanya was amazingly beautiful, with the most stunning bright blue eyes and white curly. I wondered in awe why she was stuck on some god forsaken bus with us misfits when she could be on the catwalks of Mumbai or Paris something like that. Laxmi and Hannah were also pretty, but Sanya almost made them look ugly. Then there was Jaya, Kavya, Jai, Kunal and Vishal who have just completed their Police trainings and are with us at volunteer. Then lastly there was Tanisha, who we called the "mother" of our team. She had a clipboard with our names and general details, and informed us of where we were going, how long we'd be there, when the next rest stop was and how long we had to set up the plans when we arrived tomorrow. She also said she'd deal with getting us clearance passes for the different concert halls and arenas.

With so many names and faces to remember I thought my head was going to explode. Luckily everyone seemed to be having trouble remembering names so it turned into a running joke to ask a person their name before every sentence.

It wasn't long until the alcohol was produced. Since we were on the rescue operation and not on booze party it was nothing too fancy, beer for the men and some Alco-pops for the women. Cautiously, I eyed Nakul as I reached for some blue coloured sweet drink that had been set out on one of the benches. He didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he ignored it. I was only going to have this one, and maybe another. But it certainly wasn't going to be a repeat of the Daya's birthday bash. Everyone was relaxing and enjoying themselves and I didn't want to be left out. What was the harm?

It was only nine at night, but everyone had had just enough alcohol in their systems to be comfortable with everyone else around. There were mighty Cop stories exchanged, innuendos made, and jokes shared, that had people falling about the place laughing. It was now that I was most defiantly sure the tour was going to be a roaring success. I'd had my reservations about it, about all the new people, about sharing a bus with strangers, about what Rajat had said about not being able to see Daya often, but now that I was having the time of my life I was sure that everything would be fine. Tonight, we were partying.

It didn't take long for the alcohol to have its inevitable effect on my bladder. Giggling, I tripped up the stairs from the lower levels to use the loo, much to the hilarity of everyone else watching me.

"Kya baat hai Jhanvi, bohot ache!" Kunal called after me.

"Oh, girna parna uski bachpan wali adat hai, middle name bhi hai yeh uska! Jhanvi girna parna Sharma!" replied Nakul loudly with a dry edge. Everyone laughed again.

When I was finished, I was about to attempt to descend the stairs when I heard a familiar voice.

"Oh. My. God."

Confusion hit. I was almost sure that Nakul was down with the others in the seating area of the bus. Yet, I was hearing his voice in one of the bunks. I had to investigate.

"Nakul mujhe laga tu upar..." I started as I pulled back the curtain. The face that looked back at me wasn't Nakul. The boy, looked up at me with two startled eyes that could be seen underneath a curtain of ear length black hair. He was wearing a long sleeved black t-shirt with skinny black jeans, a laptop balanced on his crossed legs.

"Oh..." I managed in surprise, "Sorry... You... you sound like my friend and I thought you were him," I babbled.

"S'ok," he mumbled, turning back to his laptop screen after giving me a look like I was some crazy drunk girl.

"I'm Jhanvi," I grinned offering out a hand for him to shake.

"Sid," he replied shyly, taking the hand with the feeblest of grips. There was a pang in my gut and I felt sorry for Sid, being up here on his own. He did look a little lost and scared, and I assumed that the whole situation was quite overwhelming for him.

"Sid, we're all having a little party downstairs, if you'd like to join us you're more than welcome," I offered, hoping for him to take the bait.

"Em... I don't know anyone, mujhe koi nehi janta yaha, me ek photographer hu!" he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. There was something about his voice, something that I recognised, but couldn't put my finger on it.

"Yaha hum sab ajnabi hai," I persisted, "We're all getting to know each other now. Come on it'll be fun."

He paused, looking at the little screen, then back at me as he bit his bottom lip. Then he shut the lid of his little computer and hopped out of the bunk.  
"Alright."

For being so shy and timid an hour ago Sid turned out to be the loudest of us all. I had no doubt that this was due to alcohol consumption. He was twenty seven, and was an apprentice on the media crew, but the rest of them were in another bus. His clothing style and jewellery could only be described as the highly controversial 'emo'. Now whether he was just into the clothes, or clothes and music, or was actually the type susceptible to self harm, remained to be seen. If today was anything to go by, I would defiantly not put him down as depressed or a self harmer. Another thing that I determined, almost immediately, was his sexuality.

He was gay. Or bi at least.

The familiarity in his voice that I had picked up on was because he spoke in the same way Nakul did.

Sid, intrigued Nakul to say the least, and I had caught them making eyes at each other a few times. What was to come though, I hadn't expected.

"Tum Gay ho," Laxmi snorted to Nakul after a particularly camp comment. It wasn't said with malice or discontent, it was more so affectionate.

"Or kya," Nakul cheered, punching his hand he had grasped around an almost empty bottle of drink into the air.

"Gay pride, for the win!" Sid joined in as everyone laughed. What happened next was so out of character.

"Prove it," said Nakul suddenly in the aftermath of the hilarity. Sid shot him a frown, unsure of his question. Nakul drained his bottle, slammed it down on the table and dragged his sleeve over his mouth to remove the drops that still clung to his lips. He began to clamber over everyone inducing more laughter and cries of protest from people getting a knee or an elbow somewhere uncomfortable. Suddenly, as he reached Sid, he put one knee either side of his lap so he was straddling the now very surprised looking boy.

"Prove it," he said again, a sly twinkle in his eye, "Prove you're gay."

A surprised gasp rippled through the bus, mixed in with more laughter. Heckles began to fly, urging the pair on. I was frozen, not knowing whether to be appalled or to join in with the jeering.

Without warning Sid jerked his head upward to meet Nakul and immediately they began, what looked like from my angle, as a very heated and sloppy kiss.

A rowdy cheer went up through the bus and the girls giggled hysterically, leaning on each other for support as they goggled at the two boys on the couch, involved in a fully fledged make out session. My face cracked into a grin as my uncertainties about them were pushed to the back of my mind. It was about time he got some action.

It was well into the early hours of the next morning before I got to bed. It was one hell of a night.

My head hurt. My head _always_ hurts when I have a hangover. Every time I drink, I say that I shouldn't drink as much, but it never amounts to anything. I always get too drunk.

Ignoring the throbbing that was taking place in my head I rolled over and tried to take stock of my surroundings. This was the second time in the space of about a week that I'd woken up in an unfamiliar bed with a hangover.

My little bunk was small and even in my petite form, when I stretched out under the sheets my toes brushed against the cold wood panelling at the bottom of the bed. There was barely enough room to sit up properly without whacking my head off Nakul's bunk above me. Carefully, I swung my legs out from the duvet and I sort of rolled out of the bunk, letting my bare feet touch the carpet of the hallway. It took a moment for me to gather my balance, due to the fact that my head still wasn't completely back to normal, and the small matter that the bus was tearing down some motorway.

I stood up straight and peered into Nakul's bunk, to check to see how he was faring. To my surprise, the bunk was empty, and the sheets were made. It didn't even look like his bed had been slept in. Curiously, I padded down the little gangway between the bunks of sleeping bodies, and down the little spiral staircase. I saw first Tanisha, wide awake, at one of the little tables, her nose buried in a book and a cup of sweet smelling coffee steaming away on the table in front of her. It made my mouth water. Then, as my eyes raked over the rest, I caught sight of my lost friend, crashed out on the sofa, snuggled up to Sid.

"Yeh dono abhi abhi soye hai," said Tanisha suddenly, "Me subah che baje uthi tab bhi yeh dono apne me mast bate kiye ja rahe the."

"Subah ke che baje?" I asked a little dumbfounded. I had no idea people _ever_ saw such a time of the morning, let alone of free will.

"In dono ke bak bak ke wajah se meri ankh khul gayi subah subah to socha kuch par lu," she chuckled, rubbing a hand over her stomach. I did a double take, then realised embarrassingly that I was staring at her swollen stomach. I'd never taken a close look at her, and she'd always been sitting down, her belly hidden from view by the table. Tanisha was most defiantly pregnant.

"Ap, ap...?" I managed to spit out, forcing myself to look at her face.

"Twenty seven weeks ho chuke hai," she shrugged knowing my question.

"Ap, is tarah humare saath... Ap safe to rahengi na! Yeh to bohot hi risky hai?" I asked, feeling very stupid.

"Yeh bacha hi to hai, koi bimari to nehi, or wese bhi me Dr. Tarika ke team se hu, to mujhe zyada kuch karna nehi parega" she laughed. The feeling of stupidity increased.  
"Or wese bhi humara yeh assignment esa hai ki hum pandra din me bhi kaam khatam kar painge, to thore hi dino ki to baat hai..."

"Pandra din, par Daya Sir ne to mahine kaha tha? _months_."

"Agar humari kismat achi rahi or CID ki kamiyabi hui to shayad pandra dino me yeh khtam ho jai, wese bhi is case ne puri CID ko hila ke rakh diya hai, sab ke sab pagal ho rahe hai or lar rahe hai! Isse pehle ki CID officers me se koi resign kare gusse me, hum to koshish yehi karenge ki jald se jald case solve ho jai."

Suddenly Nakul began to stir. I walked over to the couch where he and Sid were nestled and leaned over him. He opened his and blinked a few times.

"Morning," I laughed, looking at his dreary face.

"Hey," he yawned, suffering from the after effects of not having slept his essential eight hours.

"Kafi khush lag raha hai," I smirked.

"Oh. My. God," he breathed softly, closing his eyes again and letting a contented smile slowly spread across his face.

"Kya hua, me to so rahi thi, tab kya kya hua?" I enquired.

"Hold on," he said, shifting slowly from underneath Sid, who was still asleep, his head on Nakul's shoulder. Once on his feet he bounded up the stairs to the top deck of the bus, calling back to me that he really needed the loo. Smiling, I settled down onto one of the other little booths on the bus hoping not to disturb Sid.

When Nakul returned he laid his head on my shoulder and sighed happily.  
"He's so cool," he whispered, "Just... oh my god, humne puri raat baat ki. You'll never believe it but he wanted to be a journalist too! He was studying for it and all in college, but then when he volunteered to do the lighting for the summer musical when he didn't get a part he just fell in love with CID. Ab woh chote mote cases ke liye photos or video clippings leta rehta hai. He's so sweet Jhanvi. And really shy too, he said he's not usually that talkative but there was just something Jhanvi you know? I really, really, like him. Iske haatho me tattoos bhi hai, how hot is that?!"

Even though I was smiling as Nakul was regaling me with the stories about Sid, there was an unwelcome twinge in my stomach. Of course I was a little jealous of him, he was infatuated and his affections were being returned to him. Nakul was positively glowing and I would have given anything to feel the same way as him. Unfortunately, that wasn't a viable option for me right now considering the only person that I had feelings remotely for was Daya. But Daya was just my friend.

*****  
The stadium looked fantastic. It, of course, looked fantastic in the hanger, but now that it was all set up in the proper concert hall, with all the seats, it was just breath taking. Daya gave me a little smile and wave from where he was standing beside the microphone stand, draping his arms over it in a very bored manner. I had heard that sound checks were notoriously boring, and whoever had made that judgement was very accurate. I watched as Nakul busied himself taking photos of the area and the people who were visiting. Some of other bands came to the arena and rehearsed there. Nakul took their photos. Sid was with him most of the times, dictating him the ways to take photos and secret footage.

For the purpose of the daily tour diaries, we were to follow them from sound check, through their backstage preparations, the show, and afterward. Backstage was possibly one of the most awkward experiences since the CID team mostly discussed about their moves and the updates of the Agents. The mood was unbearable. I had tried making conversation with Daya, but I only got one word replies. I knew he must be nervous about the whole thing, so I just thought it best to leave him alone. I knew it was probably only because it was the most dangerous tour and to bring so many un experienced people for such mission is his idea. I just wished that things would get easier as the days passed. After taking the photos Nakul sat beside me and the chat about Sid began again.

"Or pata hai Sid ne kya kaha?"  
"Sid told me that..."  
"Whenever Sid does so-and-so..."

I mustered a smile.

The other real bands came in and the concert was, naturally, out of this world. I'd never been to many music events in my life, so it was a total shock to the system. The bands performed like a well oiled machine. Daya mostly kept his eyes on the band members, if anyone would stroll had told me that they always made mistakes, but standing at the front, watching them in front of the barrier, away from the ravenous girls that had queued for days, I couldn't spot any mistakes. They were, in my opinion, flawless and I was awestruck.

Afterward I ran up to Daya.  
"Kuch surag mila," I asked as I looked up at him.

"Nehi, kisi pe bhi shak nei ho raha mujhe, esa nehi lagta is concert stadium me kuch hoga, wese bugs or surveillance camera har jagah maujud hai, Vinay or Nikhil wahi bus se unpe nazar rakhe hue hai...Dekhte hai kya hota hai!" he panted, thoroughly exhausted. He just climbed down the lighting area which is indirectly connected tothe backstage where the Band were practising and stationed for the night. There was a towel around his shoulders, and I could see the sheen of sweat on his brow.  
"Wese tumne photos liye, kuch tehkikat karne layak hai kya..."  
He trailed off as he sat down with a heavy sigh.

"Nehi, wese hum bhi bohot dhund ne ki koshish kar reh the...Kuch nehi mila," I repeated in earnest.

"Mmm," he hummed in acknowledgement, leaning back into the seat and closing his eyes. He stayed like that for a few minutes, and I didn't know how to respond. I wasn't alone with him, there were other people milling about in the room, packing up things, getting ready to move on.  
"Sir, yaha kuch nehi hai...humne bugs fit kar diye hai. Shayad hume nikalna hoga, or bhi jagah ho sakte hai waha kahi ho!" Nikhil said.  
"Chalo fir, pack up karo," he finally announced, running his fingers through his hair, then cringing when they got tangled in a knot. He fought to free his hand for a brief moment, then looked up at me and laughed.

"Daya," called a voice and I turned around. Abhijeet was standing in the doorway.  
"Main bus me jar ha hu. Freddy, Pankaj sab bus me ja chuke hai. Hum yaha se ek ghante me nilkenge, fresh ho jao abhi fir bhot long route hai."

Daya stood up.  
"Alright," he yawned as he stretched, "Abhi arha hu."

Abhijeet disappeared again.

"I... I have to go now," Daya mumbled nodding his head in the direction of the door.

"Oh, okay."  
The attempt that I'd made to hide the disappointment in my voice was feeble. The corner of Daya's mouth twitched up in the smallest of sympathetic smiles.  
"Kal baat karte hai, thik hai?" he offered.

"Yeah," I smiled in response, before watching him disappear through the door.

We didn't get a chance to talk the next day, or the day after that.

The next week was one of the longest weeks of my life. Every day on that god forsaken bus was dull and tedious. It was the same routine. I'd get up and Nakul would be huddled in some corner of the bus talking and joking with Sid. I didn't hate Sid as a person, he seemed fine to me, but I hated the fact that he'd taken my best friend away from me. I was used to being so wrapped up in Nakul's life, we were inseparable. Now, I barely got a word in he was completely focused on Sid and didn't care about anything or anyone else. The only time we got to spend together was when Sid had to go and help with the crew building bugs and secret cameras. At that time we were with Daya and the rest of the CID, Nakul taking photos, with me making myself useful and inspect and detect various international bands when they arrived at the venue and rehearsed. The girls in CID did the same business as I did. Even then Nakul wouldn't stop talking about Sid. Don't get me wrong I was happy for him, he hadn't had a boyfriend for a good year and I didn't want to ruin that for him. So I didn't say anything. I simply put on a smile and nodded.

You would think that having to hang around with the CID for a job would mean that I would get to spend time with Daya like I had wanted to. Technically, I was spending time with him, but in reality it was far from the good quality time I had been expecting. Mostly it was sitting on storage boxes watching them make top secretive plans among themselves and with the INTERPOL while Nakul chattered away in my ear about what Sid had told him, what Sid had seen, where Sam had done. After the conference with the INTERPOL in some Police headquarters in Pune we disguised ourselves and go to the next concert venue where there are like chances of finding something fishy. While the CID team prepared themselves in some chosen spot in the Concert hall, I found it was as fun as getting teeth pulled at the dentist. Everyone was on edge and I didn't want to speak for fear of throwing them off whatever routine they were trying to work through before they went on spying and probably trying to catch the culprits. Between the tense atmosphere, Nakul whispering in my ear and Abhijeet's glares I barely spoke to Daya at all. So much for quality time.

After trying to act like Sherlock Holmes in the backstage area of the hall I spent most of my time back at the bus in my little bunk, typing up the daily entry for the website tour diary, then e-mailing it to Daya who checked it through before submitting it to ACP. Because Nakul was always off with Sid at this point I usually ended up flicking through his photos and selecting the ones that were to send to Daya for inspection.

I was surrounded by all these people yet, without Nakul by my side and without my regular chats with Daya I had never felt so alone in my life. Daya was always too tired after the inspection, and nearly always had to be back to the safety of the bus before anything get screwed up on their way. I felt sorry for him, always having to hide, and not being able to spend time like normal people, save for a few quality time to eat in a restaurants with the colleagues.

The nights on the bus were the worst. I could hear everyone joking, talking, laughing and generally having a good time and enjoying their time on the trip. I knew I was more than welcome to join them, but I frankly didn't feel like it. I didn't feel like having fun, if I couldn't have Nakul or Daya I didn't want anyone at all. The tour had seemed like such a good idea, but now it appeared to be turning into some kind of nightmare for me.

As I listened to the people coming up to their bunks in dribs and drabs, I tried to let the rocking motion of the bus and the gradually increasing silence as everyone else slept lull me into my own dream world, but it wasn't as easy as that. My head was so full of things, and there was no position that felt comfortable. I tossed and tossed but couldn't sleep. I stared up into the darkness at the roof of the bunk and sighed. The feeling of loneliness was threatening to overpower me. I pushed my tongue into the roof of my mouth and blinked furiously, fighting off the tears. I didn't want to be a baby, I was a grown woman. Nakul was allowed to have other friends, it was not like I exclusively owned him. Daya, well Daya was working. This was his job, and he needed to have whatever relaxation time he needed without me hassling him.

Unwillingly I succumbed and let the emotion engulf me. Silent tears slipped down each of my cheeks, then into my hair as I rested my head on the pillow. It wasn't fair. I didn't want to do this anymore. I was so close to Daya yet I'd never felt further away from him.

I didn't know as I slowly fell asleep that there was group of mysterious people in a car on the same bit of motorway as our bus. As I slowly fell asleep I didn't know that in the next few minutes that that car would purposely hit a bump in the road, would veer into our bus causing us to swerve to try and avoid it.

Causing us to crash.

I don't remember quite how it happened. Everything was a blur, the whole thing is just a vague memory.

I remember the screeching of tyres and the sensation of flying. I also remember the screams. They were the worst. Then there was blackness, and confusion. It felt as though I was dreaming, as though I'd fallen asleep and this was some nightmare I was yet to wake up from. As I thought I was flying there was the sound of metal mangling and glass shattering, mingling with the screaming. Then, in paradox to the chaos of sound, there was complete silence and time itself seemed to stand still. There was an eerie silence that makes you question if you've suddenly gone deaf. I didn't know what was going on. Things didn't feel right. For a start, the flying sensation had stopped and I felt sore all over. The softness of my bed had disappeared. I was too scared to move. A pained moan broke the silence and everything seemed to snap back to reality. Suddenly I was wide awake.

I tried moving, only to find that I was lying on sharp things. It felt almost like I was lying on small nails. I moved slowly, and the things underneath me rattled and scraped. The darkness and blur of my vision was unsettling to say the least. I reached out for my glasses, but found my whole environment had changed. The mattress was on my right, instead of beneath me, meaning that I was lying against the small window of the bunk. Then it hit me. I was lying on glass. Lying on glass because the bus was on its side.

The bus had toppled. We'd crashed.


	6. Chapter 6

**O.M.G its been more than two days and I haven't updated one single chapter! Apologies to every single of you! I do have my reason! I was totally away from my writing pad and my laptop! So please...maafi! Anyways bright side of this is I am back with another rocking chapter on the very day of the our independence...So my CID lovers! Happy Independence Day to all of you! Wish you a happy and independent future...Or CID walo ka saath humesha humare saath ho! Reel life me hi sahi! So I hope you enjoy this chapter! Enjoy enjoy! Do give me a return gift for this... Reviews! Read on...**

"Nakul?" I called out tentatively, the sound of my voice against the almost silence felt in some way, wrong.

"Jhanvi?" the voice I recognised as Tanisha replied, brokenly, "Jhanvi...mera pet... mera bacha.. ara hai..."

My heart jumped another notch up my throat. This was all wrong. This had to be some crazy horrific nightmare that I had yet to wake up from.

"Jhanvi!" Nakul finally answered from somewhere in the darkness, his voice frenzied, "Jhanvi Sid uth kyu nehi raha hai!"  
He was almost screaming, his voice piercing through me like a knife.

"Calm down," I tried, the words catching in my throat, "Check karo, woh saas le raha hai?"

Silence.

"I think so... yes, yes woh le raha hai saans,"Nakul croaked, relief in his trembling voice. I too could feel the relief was over me. If anything had happened to Sid I knew that Nakul would be inconsolable. Outside the bus there were noises. I could hear scraping noises, metallic noises, breaking noises. I lay where I was hoping that whatever the noises were, they were good noises.

"Jhanvi?"

I looked up at the shadow that appeared above me. Both the outline and the voice were familiar. It was Nikhil.

"Hilna mat," he urged, "Please hilna mat, tumhare neeche kanch hai. Hum abhi tumhe nikalte hai ruko, sab thik to haina?"

"Nehi!" I blurted, "Tanisha ko dekho. Pehle Tanisha ko sambhalo, I'm okay where I am. Crash ke wajah se bache ko kuch hua hai...Please use help chahiye."

"Oh shit," he cursed, "Okay, stay there. Hum abhi arhe hai. Wahi rehna!"

_Like I'm going anywhere in a hurry_, I thought sarcastically to myself. As I lay there I became more and more aware of the panic that surrounded the bus. I could hear at least two of the girls crying. I could hear Purvi's voice gently coxing Tanisha who would every so often give a grunt of pain as the spasms of induced labour gripped her body. Shutting my eyes tightly I said a silent prayer for her and the child. She didn't deserve to lose her baby, not like this, not at all. Nakul quietly spoke to Sid in an attempt to bring him out of his unconscious state. I lay perfectly still, numb to everything that was going on around me. I didn't feel any panic or hysteria and my eyes remained dry. I tried processing the events of the last few minutes. Was it minutes? Was it hours? There was no way to tell.

"Oh god, me kuch madad karu Purvi?" asked a breathless voice that I recognised as Kavin.

"Us Sid ko help karo," answered Purvi, "Woh behosh hai. Uske dost ko bhi help chahiye."

I heard Kavin and Nakul talking, their voices getting gradually quieter until I couldn't hear them anymore. Tanisha's cries also seemed to have ceased. They were all safely out of the bus.

"Yaha ayiye Sir, Jhanvi ko khoon nikal raha hai...Please," ushered Kavin somewhere near me. I looked up at the two shadows at my bunk unable to distinguish people in the darkness, especially without my glasses.

"Sir ap uske pair ko dhyan se pakro me uske hatho ko pakar ta hu. Usko kaanch se bachao. We don't want to take any risks with the glass underneath her."

"Okay," affirmed another friendly voice. Sachin.

I could feel them moving delicately as they could around me in the small space. Safe and gentle hands wrapped around me.

"Me teen tak ginta hu fir uthana. One... two..."  
"Three."

And I was hoisted slowly into the air. The pricking sensation ceased as I was lifted away from the glass.

"Got her?"

"Ha."

I still couldn't see much but I could feel that I was being carried a bit, then lifted up again, above Kavin and Sachin's heads, through what I assumed must have been a hole that had been made in the side of the bus. A third pair of hands took hold of me.

"Ap please mujhe pakro tight se hum apko bahar le jainge," instructed Nikhil. I obliged and he pulled me out of the bus. A cold breeze hit my body as my blurry eyes were assaulted by the flashing lights and my ears by the sounds of lots of people talking and shouting. Somewhere in the distance a siren of local police or an ambulance blared.

"Ap chal sakogi?" he asked me to which I simply nodded. He set me down on my feet.

"Uh... hum ja kaha rahe hai?" I asked feeling very lost and slightly foolish, "I can't see very well."

"Fikar mat karo Jhanvi, me tumhare peeche hi khara hu" reassured Sachin taking my hand, "Bas niche jump karna hoga."

Tentatively I took a few steps. I guessed that I was standing on top of the bus.

"Okay now stop."  
He let go of my hand and I could hear the sound of his shoes slap against the ground as he jumped down from the bus.  
"Now you jump. Trust me, I got you." Nikhil said.

I didn't doubt that he was standing there waiting for me but it still took a moment to muster the courage to jump, not knowing the distance. I leapt into the air and was barely in freefall for a second before he caught me under the arms and set me down on the ground.

"Jhanvi!" I heard a voice call out of the commotion, "Jhanvi tum thik to ho na?!"

I didn't need glasses to know who it was, I would always recognise Daya's thunder voice. His blurry figure ran quickly into my line of sight. I almost expected him to smother me in a much needed hug, but suddenly Sachin stopped him.

"Sir sir, uske ghaw bohot gehre hai! Abhi uske nazdeek mat jaiye nehi to or khoon niklega!"

"Mujhe use dekhna hai, woh mere wajah se is halat me hai!" he half shouted, half pined.

"It's alright," I explained to Sachin. Daya couldn't crowd me if he tried. On the contrary I almost wanted to be smothered by him. Daya pushed Sachin out of the way and threw his arms around my neck and pulled me close. A strange thing happened as he did so. It felt like a train hitting me as all the delayed emotion suddenly caught up with me. I gripped him tight and sobbed into his chest. Things could have been so much worse. Something seriously could have happened to Nakul, or Sid. Nakul might have died if he'd happened to be sitting or standing in the wrong way when the bus toppled. Hell, I could have died. And where would that have left Nakul and my family, even Nakul? Yet miraculously, we'd all managed to make it with just a few cuts and bruises.

"Tumhe pata hai me kitna pareshan...tum thik to ho na," he sighed, stroking my head, running his fingers through my hair as I gripped him tightly around the chest, "tum thik ho na sab thik hai na...I am sorry mujhe tumhe is tarah, Yeh sab meri Galati hai. Tum thik ho jaogi, Dr. Tarika hai na."

The sudden wave of emotion subsided almost as quickly as it had come and I let out a long breath, content that everyone I loved and cared about was safe. I just hoped now that Tanisha and the baby would be okay. A hand tapped my shoulder. I lifted my face form Daya's chest to turn around. The fact that I was unable to tell who the blur was, was becoming mildly irritating.

"Jhanvi, yeh lo, tumhari amaanat," I heard Nikhil say the smile in his voice apparent as he pressed something into my hands. My glasses.

I almost jumped for joy when I slid them on and my vision returned to normal. It was then that I was able to cast my eyes over the true horror of the crash. The bus was tipped over onto it's side with glass and debris strewn all over the cordoned off section of the motorway that we had been on. The mangled remains of a small car could be seen lying in a ditch by the side of the road. I turned away, not wanting to inspect it too closely. I had the feeling that whoever had been in the car wasn't as lucky as we had been in the bus.

"Tumhe bohot chot lagi hai, khoon sab jagah.. tumhe thand lag rahi hogi" Daya was running his hands along my bare arms. If I had been, I wasn't anymore. Daya had the unnatural ability to burn me with his touch. The fact that I was standing outside, in the middle of the night, in nothing more than a pair of small shorts and a vest top, had eluded me until now. At his mention of feeling cold, however, I could feel the hairs on my body stand on end as I shivered.

"Abhijeet," Daya snapped, "Apna sweater leke ao bus se."

Abhijeet opened his mouth, about to leap down his friend's throat in protest. But he bit his lip, giving me a sympathetic look, the first look in months that hadn't shown me contempt before disappearing. It seemed that tonight's events were more pressing than his underlying vendetta against me.

We didn't speak again until Abhijeet returned and I graciously accepted the jumper. His sweater which might have fit him perfectly, on me it looked like I'd been swallowed by a giant blue marshmallow. The jumper went all the way down to my knees and I lost my arms in the sleeves. Even Abhijeet managed to laugh a little.

"Ha, Jhanvi," Daya laughed, "Tum dhak gayi iske sweater me."

I giggled a little as I straightened out my arms and looked at the giant hoodie. Then something hit me. What happened now?

"Daya?" I asked, "Please, mujhe tour se mat nikalna..Please?"

He looked at me strangely.  
"Par tumne dekha na kya hua?"

Abhijeet rolled his eyes.  
"Dekho, me thik ho jaungi...Is sab ka samna mere liye kuch nehi hai," I tried to explain, stretching out my arms and waving them in the direction of the mess, "Please Daya."

"Oh..." he trailed off, as the thought had never crossed his mind, "Thik hai, tum lucky ho tumhe kuch hua nehi..."

"Wese...yeh car kiski hai yeh pata lagana parega Daya, janbuchke yuh divider se takrana! Yeh sajhish hai!" Abhijeet added, sneaking a small and suspicious glance at the little car in the ditch.

"Ab humara kya? Yeh bus to tut chukka hai. Where's everyone else going to go? Where am I going to sleep tonight?" I added with a laugh.

"There's two extra beds on all the other buses. There's four other crew buses, that's... eight extra spaces. Chaar beds Nikhil or Shreya ke bus me bhi hai, or do humare bus me that's... ten...twelve space..." Daya counted out on his fingers.

"Hum chaudah log hai," I reminded him.

"Ha to fir bhi barah hue na," Daya added on the contrary, "Tanisha nursing home me hai, or Kunal. Uske bones fractured hai to woh nehi ap paiga.. Un dono ko hospital le gaye. Ho gaye na barah."

"Hmm...Ab hum sab kaha soyenge...arrange karo?"

"Mujhe baki sab ka nehi pata but you're staying on our bus, you and... and I suppose Nakul too...Tum dono humare bus me rukoge!"

I blinked a few times, as what he'd said sunk in to my head. Stay with Daya on his bus? That would mean we would have all the time in the world to spend together. There was just one problem.

"_Kyaa_ humare bus me?!" spluttered Abhijeet.

Abhijeet looked as though he was about to explode. He clenched his teeth together.

"Daya..." he started, his voice threatening.

"Abhijeet...Ho gaya bas yar itna kya gussa!" Daya yelled back, "In sab ka bus crash hua hai! In sab ki jaan ja sakti thi mere bhai, kabhi to samjho logo ke dard ko! Please."

"Ha main to logo ka dard samajhta hi nehi na tum hi to bhot dayawaan ho, chahte ho wahi hoga jo tum chahoge haina Daya?" Abhijeet snapped angrily before turning on his heels and disappearing off to where the other buses had parked. Daya sighed heavily.

"I don't know what's up with him," he muttered sadly. I, however, did. Abhijeet just didn't like me or Nakul after the GlamGoss drama, it was as simple as that. And now, he was being forced to spend the rest of a mission, stuck on a bus with the two very people in the world that he hated the most.

"Kabhi kabhi to esa lagta hai ki me use janta hi nehi hu, itna strange behaviour hai," continued Daya, a defeated edge to his voice. I looked down at my feet, not knowing what to say. The fighting between the two best friends was because of me and I hated it.

"Come on," said Daya, taking my hand, "Nakul ko dhundte hai. Do you know where he might be?"

"Jaha Sid hoga wahi," I sighed, "Woh dono tumhe ek saath hi milenge."

"Kon Sid?" inquired Daya. I rolled my eyes.

"Nakul ka naya boyfriend," I told him, "Woh secret koi secret agent ka kam karta hai, photographer hai!"

"Hm...wese ek baat batao, are you jealous?"

"No!" I snapped, perhaps a little too quickly, "I'm not jealous per _say_. I'm just annoyed that he's just all of a sudden fallen completely head over heels for this guy that he barely knows. Esa nehi ke Nakul ko pehle koi nehi mila, uske or bhi to boyfriends the par usne mujhe itna ignore kabhi nehi kiya. Like... in the bus, after the crash..." I trailed off as a lump wedged itself firmly in my throat, "Usne mujhe pucha tak nehi, dekha tak nehi ki me thik hu ya nehi."

Daya gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Uski Galati nehi, pyaar me log obsessed se ho jate hai or duniya bhul jate hai," Daya explained, "He'll get over it. Tum uski itni achi dost ho, yeh baat use tab pata chalegi jab woh us pagalpan se utrega...Fikar mat karo."

"I know, I know... it just... hurts."

"It's okay, you're allowed to feel that way," Daya smiled, "Especially after tonight. It's been... eventful... to say the least."

I giggled as we approached the back of one of the ambulances that had pulled up at the scene of the crash. Nakul and Sid were sitting in the back, Sid with an ice pack held to his head. Nakul had his arm around Sam, and they were talking quietly to each other.

"How are you?" I asked, trying to seem as neutral as possible towards Sid. It was hard, but I couldn't _blame_ him for Nakul's sudden change of character.

"Thik tha," he chuckled, removing the ice pack to show me the large purple bruise on his forehead. I winced at the sight of it.  
"Par doctor Tarika ko mera scan karwana chahti hai, keh rahi hai mujhe immediately hospital jana chaiye brain haemorrhage shayad ho."

"Main bhi a raha hu tumhare saath Sid," Nakul cut in quickly. I opened my mouth to protest but swallowed the words before I spoke. It wasn't my decision, Nakul could go with Sid if he wanted to, it wasn't my place to stop him. Daya trotted back towards us after talking to the local cops about the incident.

"Nakul, tum or Jhanvi humare bus me ruk sakte ho," Daya said, "They're retrieving the luggage from the bus. Tum Sid ke saath jao tab tak hum tumhare saaman ko humare bus me shift karenge."

"Aw thanks that would be great," Nakul replied with half hearted eagerness as he turned his attention back to Sid, tucking a piece of hair being Sam's ear affectionately. Then he leant down and kissed him on the lips. My stomach gave a twinge as I watched the pair together. What I would give for someone to pay so much attention to me, to be so infatuated with me.

"I'll see you tomorrow when you get back from the hospital again!" I chirped with forced enthusiasm.

"Yeah see you," Nakul answered without even turning to look at me. I felt as though I'd been winded by his lack of consideration and compassion for me. What had the last four years of friendship meant? Clearly it meant more to me than it did to him if he was willing to sweep me under the rug for some guy he'd known a week. Was I jealous? Of course I was, I'm not a total idiot, but Nakul's attitude wasn't helping how I felt.

"Come on," said Daya tugging on my arm, "It's cold. Ander chalte hai?"

As soon as we were out of ear shot, he began to rant.

"Kitna pagal ban rhah hai? Tum bhi uske liye utni hi khas ho jitna ki woh Sid. Pagal saala."

I smiled a little, happy that Daya was there for me when Nakul wasn't. It was good to know that I always had friends.

We made our way over to where the guys were working on the bus, clearing out anything that could be salvaged from the wreck. Nakul's suitcase and mine were, thankfully, among the pile of salvaged items. There were bits of glass sticking out of mine which I carefully brushed off onto the ground. My laptop case also seemed to have survived, although I didn't live in hope for the laptop inside. Daya helped me carry mine and Nakul's things back to his bus. We passed Dr. Sarunkhe, on the way who was running around like a headless chicken trying to get everything sorted out. For him, I'm sure this was all a nightmare from the point of view of investigation and possibilities of injuries of the people on the bus. When we got to the bus I immediately could tell that Abhijeet was aboard, but I assumed he'd gone and shut himself away into his bunk because the curtain was pulled closed when I walked past with my stuff to the two extra bunks at the back of the bus. I was too tired to sort through my stuff and would deal with the damage in the morning. I pushed my case under the bunk and joined Daya who was rattling around the lower deck of the bus. I flopped my tired and somewhat sore body down onto one of the chairs. They were so much more comfortable than the chairs on the crew bus.

"Thak gayi hogi," he noted with a chuckle.

"Hmm," I agreed, rubbing my eyes under my glasses.

"Well, I'm just going to make us some coffee, uske baad goodnight bolenge ek dusre ko" he smiled as he continued his rattling. He called out to his best friend.

"Abhijeet tumhe coffee..."

"Nehi," replied a solemn Abhijeet. Daya rolled his eyes.

"Tumhari marzi," muttered Daya bitterly and shrugged. I turned and looked out of the tinted window, watching people still milling about, not sure what they were supposed to be doing. My eyes were heavy and it was a fight to open them after each blink. I yawned. Then, the next thing I know I'm looking up at Daya's face, as he's carrying me somewhere.

"Wha...Kya hua?" I mumble.

"You keep falling asleep on me," Daya said, pretending to be offended, but I saw easily through his charade.  
"Wese bhot logo ne mujhe yu is tarah larkiyo ko uthate dekha nehi, bhot embarrassing hoga agar Pankaj ne dekh liya to."

He set me down into my bunk, and I was too tired to protest or complain. I simply pulled the blanket over me and closed my eyes, letting my head sink into the soft pillow.

"Tumhare chashme..."

Grumbling, I opened my eyes again and took off my glasses, setting them on a little shelf in the bunk above my head. I was dead to the world after that.

The next day was positively boring compared to the hectic events of the previous night. Everyone was sorted into their new buses, investigating the culprits behind the crash and we were travelling to our next destination, which was fortunately not very far away. The entire crew pulled together after the accident and made up for the lost time while gathering more and more evidence in the car that was the cause of the crash and the obviously dead casualties.

With Nakul gone with Sid, who was still at the hospital for a twenty four hour observation, Daya gave me the night off from the tour diaries. It wasn't a life or death part of the team anyway and I revelled in the night off with every bit of detail that is necessary for the track records. Besides, my laptop was completely shot to pieces. It wasn't exactly falling apart, but it kept doing stupid things like turning off at random moments, then refusing to turn back on. The mouse pad and keyboard were also being temperamental. Daya suggested that I get Vivek to have a look at it. His exact words were: "Woh humare bureau ka Bill Gates, use Windows or computer related problems ke bare me kisi bhi software engineer se bhi zyada knowledge."

So while everyone was at the concert silently raiding the area, I raided Daya's DVD collection. It was some action film that I'd heard a lot about but had never got around to seeing. It was good, not usually my type of film, but entertaining enough to pass the time. When the guys eventually returned, I greeted Abhijeet with a smile.

"Kuch mila...Sir?" I asked him. He looked at me, looked at me like I was speaking Japanese, or I'd suddenly grown a new head. I wanted to show him that I didn't have a problem with him, in the vein hope that he'd abandon his hatred of me. Eventually he spoke.

"Nehi abhi tak to nehi," he muttered, before disappearing. Daya sat down, looking drained as usual.

"Kya hua?" he asked, "What did you say?"

"Maine bas pucha koi surag mila ke nehi," I replied honestly as I shrugged my shoulders. "Tum fikar mat karo, unhone ache se hi jawab diya!"

Daya chuckled then patted me on the shoulder.  
"Baby steps Jhanvi... baby steps."

*****  
I was watching T.V. when it happened. A shout, then the squeal of breaks and then screaming.  
The screams rang in my ears, the noise of breaking glass and crunching metal mixing in some twisted harmony. I had been here before. I was jolted back and forth, clinging on with white knuckles as the bus rolled over and over. When the flying sensation stopped and the bus came to a halt on its side, I dared to open my eyes. Smashed plates and glasses from the cupboard covered everything, along with an assortment of food that had been dislodged. Shaking, I pushed myself out of the corner I had been wedged in. I seemed to be unharmed. I slowly got up from my seat, fiddling to find a my gun. They must've attacked the tour bus again. I took hold of my gun and loaded it by pushing the plunger tightly. I looked here and there to find another noise or a hint. No one was in the bus since it was more like a pin drop was silent, except for the tic-tac of the bus's indicator lights and the hiss of a protesting engine. Crawling through the debris, I kicked open the door that separated the seating area from the bunks, gripping my Revolver tightly with my left hand. The curtains were drawn across the individual beds. Slowly at first, then with one quick motion, I yanked the curtain back and pointed the gun before me. Then I caught the sight of his wide, lifeless eyes, open in shock, with his hair splayed out and matted with his own blood...

I bolted upright, my heart hammering between my ears and a layer of cold sweat drenching my body. It took a few deep breaths before I realised that it had all been a dream. Trembling with relief, I let the tears fall, knowing it would relieve all the pent up tension. The sight of Daya's face, cold and pale, the blood, his eyes, still burned in my brain as though it had actually happened. Had it actually happened? Was there some chance that my dream was just re-living actual events? Had Daya been on my bus when it'd crashed? I was so confused, half of my brain still asleep.

I was overwhelmed by the urge to go see him, to check to see if he was alive, to prove my dream to be nothing but that; a dream. Frantically, I grabbed my glasses and without another moments thought, I found myself outside his bunk, having pulled his curtain back to take a look. He was there, safe and sound, his face relaxed, his chest rising up and falling again slowly as he breathed. He was one hundred percent alive and well.

Then, his eyes were open.

I froze, like a deer caught in headlights as he blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. Frowning he pushed himself up a bit from his bed.

"Kya hua?"

"The bus," I babbled, my brain still off in the land of nod, "And the crash, tum, waha tumhe kuch hua, tum usi bus me the…"  
I paused as a lump lodged itself in my throat and refused to move.  
"I thought you were dead," I squeaked.

Daya took in a deep breath from his nostrils and threw back the corner of his duvet.  
"C'mere," he mumbled, still speaking incoherently.

I clambered in, feeling as though I was five again, climbing into my parent's bed after a nightmare.

The floodgates opened and I once again found myself crying. He put his arms around me and held me close. I clung to him as if he were the last drop of water in a desert. I wanted to be held, I needed to be held.  
"S'ok," he whispered over and over, "Main thik hu, I'm not dead. Ek dam alive ok! S'ok. It was just...just a dream."

It took a few minutes, but eventually my heart calmed down, my breathing resumed to normal and my head was satisfied that what lay beside me was completely alive. I felt so safe, so comfortable, so at home with him. He was my haven, my everything, my Daya.  
"Daya?" I asked eventually, lifting my head from his chest to look at his face in the darkness. I still had my glasses on so I was able to see him quite well, despite the dark.

"Mm?" he hummed.

"Mai jau...tum disturb ho gaye hoge?"

A smile crossed his lips  
"'Course not."

"Sure?"

"Mmmm… bas…" he paused to open his mouth wide in a yawn, "bas… yehi so jao. I'm comfy now."

Another few minutes passed and I could feel myself drifting off as I listened to the sound of his breathing. Then, I felt the need to speak again.

"Daya?"

"Mmmwhat?"

"Thanks."

"S'no problem. Ab so jao."

Smiling, I snuggled closer to his warm body. I was blissfully happy in that moment, holding onto his safe and armoured embrace in the darkness. There was no place in the world I would rather be, no thing that I would trade for it. Did he know that he was my world? Did he know how he made me feel? Would it scare him if he did? Would he shy away if I told him, told him that he was like the missing piece of my jigsaw puzzle? It was burning me up inside. I wanted to tell someone, _anyone_. I wanted to climb to the top of the tallest mountain and scream it out to the world.

"Daya?"

"Chup chap so jao Jhanvi."

So I waited, waited until his breathing changed, until my eyes were so heavy they felt like they would drop off. Even then, it was barely a whisper on my tongue as I said it. So soft even I couldn't hear it completely.

"I Love you."

Holding my breath, I waited for an acknowledgement that I presumed would never come. As a low rumble emitted from the back of his throat I knew that he never would. He was snoring, ever so softly, a sign that he was most defiantly asleep. I took off my glasses and set them up onto the shelf above our heads, careful not to disturb Daya in the process. Stretching out my toes I stifled a yawn and shifted everything slightly one last time before I settled down into slumber. My declaration would have to wait for another day. Or maybe it would be best not to tell him, I wouldn't want to ruin what we already had by saying something stupid. There were three things that I was sure of. One, that I loved Daya. Two, I didn't want to just be his friend. Finally three, the most painful to admit, was that two was utterly and completely impossible.

Waking up was strange.

It took a matter of minutes before I was able to convince myself I was actually awake, and that I wasn't subject to just another dream. After all, when you wake up next to the mighty Inspector Daya, you do tend to assume that you're dreaming. I could pinpoint every part of my body that was touching his. My left knee, part of my left foot, part of his flaunting muscle of his arm was draped over me still and my arm had gone dead under the weight of his back. His breathing heavy, slow, and controlled, all factors that made me think he was yet to wake up. The fact that I also knew that whenever he took leave or he is not on duty he slept sometimes to four in the afternoon just made my suspicions stronger. But I wasn't complaining that Daya wasn't going anywhere soon, in fact, I was revelling the opportunity. Sure, he was just being nice, comforting me because of my horrible nightmare, but I could pretend couldn't I?

I could dream, dream like the rest of his fan girls. I could close my eyes and dream that I was his and he was mine. That I wasn't just lying here beside him because of his courtesy, no, I was lying here because we'd just had a night of wonderful suhagraat or honeymoon. Giggling to myself, I stretched out my back a little, the illusion still ripe in my mind that my body wasn't sore and tired because I'd been in an accident only a two nights previous, but rather my body was sore because he was a very good looking man with a very healthy sex drive.

Just then he stirred beside me. Turning my head to the side on the pillow, I watched as he gradually came out of his slumber. His face was so perfectly smooth and flawless, like the finest Chinese porcelain. Stretching out my fingers to satisfy the sudden urge to touch his face, I ran the back of my fingers slowly and gently down one of his cheeks. His mass of black eyelashes fluttered open, revealing two toffee brown eyes. For a brief moment I wondered whether or not he would shy away from my hand, would ask me in astonishment what I was doing. But he didn't. As those intoxicating eyes of his focused on me, his soft crimson pink lips curled up into a smile.

"Good morning," he breathed.

I returned his smile.  
"Sleep well?" I asked.

"Kyu nehi ayegi, tum jo thi itni pas?" he chuckled, slipping an arm around my waist. The gap between us was suddenly nonexistent as he pulled me to him. My heart gave a lurch as I stared into his too-close eyes.  
"Tum mere saath puri raat mere bahon me thi Jhanvi, yeh kitni bari baat hai ki so paya...Koi or hota to woh so bhi nehi pata. Tumhe pata hai tum kitni khubsurat ho? Par fir bhi I hardly slept at all for thinking of you and how much I wanted to do this."

And then he kissed me. My brain felt as though it was going to explode, or implode, or melt and run out my ears in little streams of goo. A fire raged in my belly as his tongue slipped over mine, slowly and sensually. No words that I could put together could merit the experience.

"You don't know how much I've wanted to do that," he whispered as he broke away, "I've wanted to kiss you for a long time. I've wanted to kiss you here..."

He kissed my forehead.

"Here..."

He kissed my nose.

"Here and here..."

He pecked my mouth and my neck. He gave me another devastating smile with hooded eyes.

"Here..."

Disappearing out of my line of sight, I felt him press those fiery lips of his against my navel. I could hardly breathe my heart was hammering so fast.

"and here," he chuckled devilishly, as I felt his hands brush at the waist band of my shorts, slowly pulling them down.

"Daya..." I whispered.

"Jhanvi?"

My blurry eyes shot open and I bolted upright so quickly that I wacked my head off the bunk above.

"Jhanvi tum thik to ho na?" Daya's voice asked with concern. I looked around, only able to see blurry shapes.

"What... where... but..." I babbled incoherently.

"Yeh," Daya said handing me my glasses. Sliding them on, I looked around and took in my bearings.

"What... happened?"

"Sapna dekh rahi thi," Daya explained, propping himself up on his elbow and shooting me a curious look.  
"Yeh bhi, daravne sapne the kya, tum Freddy banti ja rahi ho kya?"

It slowly dawned on me, that I had fallen asleep again and the thoughts that had been running through my head before I'd fallen asleep had crossed into my dream flawlessly. My heart sank so quickly I was afraid it would have fallen out the bottom of my chest.

"No... Daravna sapna nehi tha," I admitted sadly, "Freddy Sir jesa sapna nehi par sapna to tha."

"Acha, kesa sapna?" he laughed, "Tum ese ese expressions kar rahi thi, batao kesa sapna."

With a sigh, I lay my head back on the pillow, rubbing at the place where I'd hit it.  
"Doesn't matter," I mumbled. Well, would you tell him that you'd just dreamt he was about to go down on you? I think not.

"Wese tum thik ho na, koi problem to nehi hua na tumhe kal raat?"

"Nehi," I sighed, "Thanks for letting me stay here."

"No problem, choti bato pe thanks mat bolo. Mere wajah se tum is halat me phas chuki ho! Jab bhi kisi cheez ki zarurat pare please please mujhe bata dena."

I nodded my now throbbing head slowly.

"Kal ke liye I am sorry, agar me itna laparvah na hota to...," he apologised, "Khair choro, How's your head?"

"Thora dard to hai hi," I moaned.

"How many fingers?" he asked, holding up three above my head.

"Six," I replied dryly, turning my head on the pillow to face him. He frowned.

"Are you sure tum thik ho Jhanvi?"

"Daya it was a joke. Tumne teen ungli dikhai thi, God."

"Oh," Daya muttered, slightly embarrassed, "Subah subah joke ke mood me hota hi nehi mera brain."

"Dopahar ko bhi nehi... or raat ke time bhi nehi...kabhi bhi nehi," I teased.

"Hey! Had he mere hi bus meri hi bezti!" he pouted with mock offense, poking me sharply in the waist. I squirmed. He poked me again.

"Stop that," I grumbled, batting his hand away with mine. I was already annoyed enough about the dream without him persisting to prod me.

"Kyu, gudgudi hoti hai kya tumhe bacho ke tarah?" he pouted, a mischievous glint in his eye. Before I could respond Daya began a full fronted assault causing me to squirm and thrash about trying to evade his tickles.

"Daya! Stop!" I gasped in between laughs, but he was having too much fun.

Suddenly the curtain flew back and I looked up quickly at the figure standing above us. All hilarity ceased immediately.

"Yeh yaha 24 ghante bhi nehi ruki or tum firse iske saath...Chee Daya!" Abhijeet hissed, with not even the slightest hint at humour in his voice.

"Abhijeet," Daya groaned, "We're not..."

"Bahane mat banao, I'm not interested," snapped Abhijeet before walking off.

"Hai bhagwaaaaaan Abhijeet!" Daya called after his brother like friend. When Abhijeet showed no signs of returning, he sighed irritably and clambered over me to get out of the bed to follow his best friend. Had the situation been any different I would have quite enjoyed having Daya clamber over me, but this was an entirely different and I got no pleasure out of it whatsoever.

Okay maybe a little.

I could hear Daya arguing once he had located his friend. After all there aren't very many places that you can go on a bus and not be heard.

"Yar kabhi meri bhi sun lo yar, kal raat use bohot dar lag raha tha isiliye mene use apne saath sulaya, or kuch nehi hua yar Abhijeet please, kal raat use khwab arhe the daravne!"

"Oh ho, daravne khwab, Daya mene to kabhi ese excuses sune hi nehi kisi ke muh se! Dekho tumne bhi yakeen kar liya" Abhijeet quipped back, the sarcasm practically dripping from his voice.

"Yar kal raat woh dar gayi thi, ab sum humare or tumhare tarah roz khatro se to nehi khelte na! Woh sehmi hui hai Abhijeet, kuch to socho!"

"Oh semhi hui hai, dekha mene abhi kitni sehmi thi woh."

"She was crying last night, ab me kya karu? Ab sab tumhare tarah emotionally incompetent to nehi hai na," Daya hissed. I winced at the bitterness in his voice.

"Jo bhi hai, agar yeh larki yaha rahi to me bhi Tarika ko is bus me le aunga!"

"Mujhe Tarika se koi problem nehi hai Abhijeet!"

After that I took up the pillow and placed it over my ears, hoping that once again that sleep would carry me off. Fortunately, it did, and I drifted off this time into a dreamless sleep that didn't taunt me with cruel tricks. When I finally woke up again it was around noon and there was no-one to be seen in the bunk area of the bus. The bus had also ceased moving since I was last awake. We must have been at another arena. Throwing myself out of bed, I stumbled down the stairs onto the empty bottom floor of the bus. I seemed to have been practically abandoned. Along with a security pass there was a small note pinned to the fridge door written in Daya's small and neat cursive hand.

_Jhanvi,_

Sorry about earlier. Abhijeet pagal ho chuka hai. Hum Dr. Sarunkhe or Tarika ke saath Arena pe nigrani rakhne ja rahe hai. So see you later. Oh and-  
  
The cursive script stopped abruptly and a bigger bolder and slightly more scribbled text picked up. I recognised it all too well.

**_I'm back! Nakul xxxx_**

I scoffed at the letter and scrunched it up into a little ball. It was best that Abhijeet didn't find it, besides, I was cross that Nakul had been on the bus, yet hadn't bothered to come and see me for himself. I wouldn't have minded the intrusion of my sleep for him. But then again, I wasn't exactly high up on his list of priorities.

I made myself a bowl of cornflakes, making sure not to use the last of the milk. Apparently his highness sir Daya didn't like it when someone used the last of 'his' milk. Once a Sir, always a Sir I chuckled to myself. When I'd got myself fed and watered, I took a shower. The shower was tiny, even for me, so I couldn't imagine how Daya could use it to its full advantage because of his height. Even Abhijeet is a foot taller than me.

This Arena was of no great importance to me. Once you've seen one you've seen them all. If I was required to write about it, I could make it up quite easily. Besides I still hadn't fixed my laptop. Vivek had said he'd take a look but he was made no promises. Tying my brown hair back I stepped off the bus and made my way to the arena, my pass swinging from my neck. As I walked in and past the various body guards who knew me by now, Daya saw me from the stage and gave little smile. In response, I gave him a thumbs up.

Nakul was milling about the floor of the arena, which would in a few hours time be teeming with screaming, hormonal teenage girls that were lined up for a new International Pop Band. He was watching Sid up in the riggings fixing bugs and surveillance cameras like a hawk.

"Usko itne chot aye hai fir bhi ese heavy kaam kar rha hai, is it ok for him?" I asked slyly, hoping to surprise him.

"Not really, but he's on a harness so it should be okay," he replied nonchalantly. I rolled my eyes to the heavens.

"Aren't you even going to ask me how I am?" I asked a bit peeved off to say the least. Nakul turned around.

"Oh my god," he cried, before laughing and enveloping me in a hug, "Sorry Jhanvi I didn't realise it was you!"

The week of him distancing himself from me, there was something warm and fuzzy about his compassion towards me. It felt right, like nothing had changed. Perhaps the worst of his infatuation with Sid was over and he remembered now about his other friends.

"Guess who I saw at the hospital!" he gasped clapping his hands excitedly. Without giving me even the slightest chance to attempt to guess, he continued, "Tanisha! She had the baby and it's _fine_! Well, as fine as a really premature baby can be, it's in intensive care and all that but the doctors say there's a 96% chance of survival and after next week it'll be 100%! Isn't that wonderful! It's a little girl, and oh my god she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen! She's so tiny too. God kitni khubsurat hai woh bachi!"

I laughed, everything seemed back to normal with Nakul. It seemed almost too good to be true that he could have such a turnaround in such a short space of time.

In reality, it was too good to be true. No sooner than Sid had appeared Nakul had forgotten my existence, and was off in his own little dream world. Sighing I sat on top of one of the travel cases and prepared myself for another long day.

"Apke liye surprise hai Jhanvi Ji," said a low voice from behind me. Turning around I saw Vivek, brandishing my laptop case. I squealed.

"You fixed it!" I gasped, almost leaping on him in gratitude, "Thank you so much!"

"No problem," he chuckled.

"Kese kiya?"

"Agar yeh bataya," he replied, with the smallest of sly smiles, "To mere software ka course ke saath gaddari hogi. I would then have to kill you!"

As he walked away I wasn't sure whether or not to take him seriously. I was almost sure he was joking but with Vivek you could never quite know for sure.

Eager to test out my refurbished laptop I cracked it out and waited for it to boot. As I did, I cast my eyes over the arena. Sid and Nakul were deep in conversation, pausing every now and again to share a quick kiss or a joke. Daya was parading around the stage as he did so well while talking on phone, smiling whenever he caught my eye. Abhijeet made a point of ignoring both Daya and myself, and if his eye accidentally happened to catch my own, he made sure to scowl.

Between Daya's friends only compassion, Abhijeet's contempt and Nakul's neglect, I felt as though my emotions were constricting my chest and that they would eventually smother me, causing me to die a slow and painful death. Yes, I was exaggerating, but it sure felt that way to me. With a heavy sigh, I lifted my laptop onto my knee and started to type.

_After the disaster that was the bus crash two days ago, the team CID don't appear to have let it affect their good work. As I sit here watching another performance they look set to protect our country in another show stopping set..._


	7. Chapter 7

**oh its been two weeks, my apologies! All the comments and the demands made me type everything as fast as I can! Anyways thanks to every single one of you for making me feel so honored...Thanks for telling me that my story is not just some gibberish! N to my Shreya loving readers...I am compromising with my plot and bringing her in the next chapter! So brace yourselves! Again thanks for the support! I love you all! Now enjoy!**

**Oh and the link of the song that Daya is listening to is quite an awesome song! **

** watch?v=BW1gMNqwqqQ**

_..and as predicted, all four of the guys stretched the limit of any police department and is about to break their own game. It's hard to stop them from finding the criminals at all. They keep telling me where they went wrong, what clue they missed etc, but I can never spot them. They put on such a breathtaking investigation that you lose yourself in it and I'll be damned if any of the criminal is not tracked down alive from them. Perhaps I should brush up on my investigation logic, and learn not to watch them with doe-eyed awe from now on, maybe then I'll be able to spot where they go wrong and help them finding clues and finger prints!_

Next stop... New Delhi!

Attaching the file to an e-mail, I sent it to Sarunkhe who was, in fact, just at the other end of the bus. The wonders of how lazy technology made us astounded me. Closing the lid on my laptop I set it up in one of the overhead cupboards.

"You know," muttered Daya through a mouthful of ice cream that he'd raided from the freezer, "Mujhe tumhe ek khas dost se milwana tha, par meri yadaash ko tala lag chukka hai! Milna chahogi?"

I looked around at him in surprise. I hadn't noticed how could he even utter things like that he is just so intelligent, but I certainly _had_ noticed the days go past when he was stuck on the cramped crew bus with having to watch Nakul and Sid nuzzle each other while I was left pretty much abandoned. He must have completely lost it if he wasn't gifted with such a tremendous IQ level. I was much happier, sharing the bus with him with his super personality; I didn't want the tour to end. Sure I still had to deal with the situation between myself and Abhijeet, but if I got to stay with Daya I'd weather any storm between me and his best friend.

"Milwao fir, der kis baat ki," I chuckled.

"Ek minute woh dusri bus me hai abhi phone karta hu... Yad bhi nehi mera phone kaha kho gaya," he groaned, "Tum dono achi dost bhi ban sakti ho, woh bhot achi hai. Woh meri bhot khas dost hai, tumhari bhi ho jaigi, which will be great. Wese Delhi gaye to tumhe mere saath apna pura time spend nehi karna hoga, woh mujhse zyada interesting hai. Larkiyo ko to wese bhi gossip karne ke liye ek female companion ki zarurat hai. Mujhe to bhot ache se pata hai tum kitni bore hoti hogi mere saath!"  
He grinned and typed a message on his phone.  
"Oh thank god tumne mujhe bata dia, you live such a hard life, sach me bohot boring ho tum!" I smirked sarcastically. Just a spark of jelousy triggered that he might know this girl too well and I don't know a thing about it. But I shrugged off the thought. He's definitely talking about a sister he refers to.

"Achaaa!" he protested, "Me nehi de raha apna Ice Cream tujhe."  
Huffing, he turned away from me on the little bus sofa that we had perched ourselves on to watch some foreign T.V. program. I peered over his shoulder at the empty tub.

"To wese thori karta apna ice cream share?" I sulked.

"You never know, I might have," he sniffed, sticking his nose into the air.

"Wese bacha bhi hai kuch khane layak."

Daya looked down at the little tub that he cradled in his arms. His face dropped into a frown, then he looked up at me, fixing me with sad puppy dog eyes that made it impossible to keep a straight face.

"Sorry, me chahta to tha share karu par..." he took another look down into the empty tub, "I ate it all."

"Mmm, the bottomless pit that is the mighty CID cop," I sighed, stretching my legs out across the aisle of the bus.

"Ek minute ha dekhta hu or ice cream hai ki nehi," he sighed, getting up and stepping over my legs before padding into the kitchen where he announced that there wasn't. Then, he added, "Wese yah ape kuch Breezer bottles pare hai, shayad Kavin ke honge. They're nearly out of date and it seems such a terrible waste."

I gave him a puzzling look.  
"Main or alcohol, meri track record to tumhe pata hi haina?"

"Ek baat batau me nehi chahta Kavin yeh piye kyuki hum mission me hai, isliye agar tum yeh piyogi to acha rahega, or us din jo hua tha mere birthday ke din woh itna bhi bura nehi hai, it was funny," he grinned. Rolling my eyes, I held out my hands, gesturing that I wanted him to chuck one over. He did and I caught it expertly, my motor skills not yet impaired since I hadn't started drinking. Daya didn't have to know that if I'd tried to count all the times I'd had way too much to drink I'd run out of fingers and toes. Besides, I'd need some alcohol in my system to be able to stomach all the whining that Nakul would do when the buses had to hit the road and he'd be temporarily separated from his precious Sid. As if some celestial beings had been reading my mind, who should happen to walk onto the bus then but the love bird himself.

Much to my surprise, Nakul didn't seem at all bereft to be leaving Sid once the buses were about to depart. In fact he didn't make a fuss at all, he just waltzed in the bus his usual perky self. In actual fact he was more upbeat than usual, he was practically buzzing.

"Oh can I have one of those?" he asked as he passed Daya at the fridge. Without even stopping to wait for approval, he took one and sat down cross legged on the adjacent part of the little L-shaped couch.

"New jumper?" I commented, looking at the jumper he was wearing. The only reason that I noticed it was because it was a tight long-sleeved jumper. Nakul hardly ever wore jackets or jumpers unless he was freezing cold because he said they felt 'too constricting'.

"Yeh Jumper Sid ka hai," he grinned back, "He leant it to me when I said that I was cold."

"Uski zarurat bhi nehi paregi," Daya noted, sitting down beside me with his own beverage poured out into a glass, "Delhi bohot hi dry or garmi se behal karne wali jagah hai."

"Where did you hear that?" Nakul asked.

"Me ACTUAL me news dekhta hu," Daya stated, looking very pleased with himself.

I gestured towards the television that was uttering some very quick dialect of Marathi.  
"Oh to tum Marathi news dekhte ho?"

"I... okay fine Sarunkhe ne bataya," he huffed, getting up from his seat. Nakul and I laughed.

As the bus shuddered into life and we moved off, Abhijeet walked down the stairs with a bright and giggling Tarika who was engaged talking to Abhijeet. He just smiled at her and didn't say a word to anyone as he poked about in the cupboards, his face a little sour as was his custom of late.

"Why so serious?" Nakul mocked, pouting his lips out to their full potential. Abhijeet replied simply with just a glare that had the potential to kill. Tarika looked at Abhijeet with question. He looked away.  
"Kya hua Abhijeet?" Tarika asked, Abhijeet looked at her.

"Kuch nehi thak gaya hu!" He said before drawing himself back to the bunker, Tarika looked at us questioningly before tagging with him.

"Tired, thori der pehle hi to gaana gane ke mood me the tum?" Tarika's voice trailed. Nakul giggled.

"Watch it," I hissed a warning to Nakul.

"He's no fun anymore."

"Oh he's never been much fun trust me," Daya stated with a steely glare towards his friend. I didn't know if anyone else could see it, but I could swear behind Abhijeet's glare, there was sadness. It made me want to hug him, but all things considered that would probably make things worse.

Daya was bobbing his head, watching a music channel in TV. The song was so upbeat, I realized it was Its _The way I are _by_ Timberland _and _Keri Hilson_. He slowly slumbered to sleep while Nakul and I sat up for another hour or so, drinking the Bacardi breezer's until Nakul finally went up to his bed. I had lost count of how many of the empty bottles I had contributed to, but I was still coherent so I was doing pretty well so far. Daya woke up after Nakul was gone and we started talking about the most random of things as we always did on these late nights. Like what colour of apple tasted better, or what was the most embarrassing CD in our collection. As I delved further into the depths of alcohol depravity, my subjects got weirder and weirder.

"Jhanvi, tumhe char gayi hai," Daya noted, holding the last bottle out in front of him as he admired it, "Itna khali kar diya hai ki Sarunkhe bhi guess nehi kar paiga is bottle me Bacardi tha ya cola."

Leaning on his shoulder I looked up at him, and it was just like any other dream of mine. He was so perfect and beautiful, especially when he smiled, like he was smiling at me now.

"What?" he laughed.

An impulse too strong to resist washed over me, very much like the urge that had caused me to literally pounce on Daya outside the hotel room all that time ago. It was so much like a dream that it indeed had to be a dream. And a dream made it okay. Bacardi was vodka, so anything that came from Bacardi had to be pretty strong, so no doubt with all those little bottles, I was much further down the road of intoxication than I felt. In fact, I probably had passed out by now and this was a dream. If Daya was going to be difficult, at least I could try to have some fun in my dreams couldn't I?

Leaning up towards him I readied myself for another one of his blissful, if imaginary, kisses. His lips were like ice, frozen in place at my touch. Opening my eyes again to see what the problem was I was met with the most sobering of looks.

"Jhanvi... wh... what are..." he stammered, eyes wide and confused as he backed away slowly.

I realised too late to save face that I'd been tricked by the alcohol running through my veins. This was no dream, and I was in _deep_ trouble.

"I...I thought..." I croaked out, words failing me as my foggy brain caught up to speed with what happened. Just when I would have needed the liquid courage most it was evaporating. Oh _shit_. Suddenly the urge to get away from him was more powerful than anything and I bolted. The trouble was that there weren't very many place to hide on a double Decker bus.

"Jhan, Jhanvi!" he called after me, but I wasn't going to stop. I practically jumped up the steps and into the little bathroom, locking the door safely and securely behind me. Sitting down carefully on the little patch of floor I hugged my knees close to my chest.

_Shit, shit... shit!_

This wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening, it wasn't fair! I'd fucked up, and fucked up big time. Nothing would ever be the same between us, I didn't even know if I'd be able to look him in the eye again. This was all wrong, none of this should have happened. Fucking alcohol.

"Jhanvi yaar..." Daya began, his voice muffled by the door that separated us. I didn't reply. Childish though it may have been but I thought that if I pretended like nothing was happening it would all just go away. Unfortunately, I wasn't in the land of pretend, I was in the real world and some things don't go away as easily as you want them to.

"Jhanvi..." he tried again, "Talk to me please... Baat to karo!"

I ignored him. Closing my eyes I pressed my face into my knees, hugging them tighter and tighter.

"Please," he sighed.

I knew that I couldn't have Daya the way I wanted him, but having him as a just a friend was better than not having him at all. With my actions I had effectively ended our friendship. Sure we could go on pretending like nothing was wrong, but there'd always be that awkwardness.

"Dekho jo kuch bhi abhi hua, use bhul jate hai, thik hai," he offered.

_I hate alcohol._

"Jhanvi please... say _something_," he begged.

"_Something_," I muttered cynically.

"Urgh, fine then. Me sone ja raha hu, kal baat karte hai," he sighed irritably. I could hear shuffling outside the door. I let out a long relieved breath. It would be much easier to do things in the morning. I'd just pretend that I had been so drunk I'd forgotten everything. Then we'd all go back to playing blissfully ignorant families. I waited until I was sure he'd be in bed and at least semi-asleep before I left the safety of the little toilet. However, I hadn't accounted for the possibility that he'd been lying.

He hadn't gone to bed, and he was waiting to pounce on my as soon as I was out of hiding. I squeaked in alarm as he appeared out of the shadows.

"You," he hissed, grabbing my arm, "Mujhe tumse abhi isi waqt baat karni hai, kya hua kyat ha us waqt kuch bataogi bhi?"

"I'm drunk," I shrugged, trying to appear calm and collected, as if nothing was wrong, "I'm not thinking straight. Kal baat karte hai."

"I...I don't understand. Tumne bas ese hi soch lia 'chalo Daya ko kiss karte hai', koi to reason hoga na Jhanvi?"

"Koi reason nehi hai. I'm pretty drunk," I replied defiantly avoiding the truth.

"You don't sound really drunk."

"Trust me I am."

"You're lying to me and I don't like it. Jhanvi mujhe batao please?"

My heart was about to do overtime. By the end of this trip I was bound to have a coronary. I tried to swallow but my mouth had gone completely dry.

"Shayad me super Officer hu but I am not a mind reader Jhanvi, tum batao please, tell me what's going on."

Up until now I had been looking at my shoes, but now I raised my eyes to look him dead in the eyes. He knew that I wasn't drunk enough to be irresponsible for my actions, he knew that I would remember everything. Everything was already so fucked up that there was nothing to lose.

"Me tumhe like...karti hu," I spat out, using all the speech capabilities that I had left in my body.

"Ha pata hai tum like karti hu, I like you too," he replied, apparently baffled.  
I groaned at his lack of understanding before he continued.  
"Mujhe pata hai ki hum ache..."

He trailed off and I could see the recognition in his face as it slowly dawned on him.

"_Oh_... you mean..._oh_."

I swallowed again. Neither of us had said anything for several minutes. It was becoming too much for me and I felt as though I was about to crack. So I spoke up first.

"Main samajh sakti hu, tumhare liye yeh sab maine nehi rakhta hai, I know, or mujhe please maaf kardo, mene kiss jaan buchke nehi kiya tha, hum fir bhi ache dost reh sakte hai, I know its going..."

A hand clamped over my mouth and turned the rest of what I wanted to say into incoherent gibberish.

"Chup, ek dam chup," Daya sighed.

"Mai ek idea du," grumbled Dr. Sarunkhe who was occupying the bunk closest to this end of the bus, "Tum dono apna drama kal continue karo or abhi muh pe tala laga ke so jao or mujhe chain se sone do, Please!"

We both looked at our feet like scolded children. I made the first move and went off towards my bunk.

"Jhanvi..." Daya whispered, "Kidher ja rahi ho? yaha ao!"

Ignoring him, I walked down towards the back of the bus and without even getting changed, I got into bed. Pulling the sheets over my head I closed my eyes tightly, hoping that everything would just disappear.

"Jhanvi!" I heard Daya hiss. I knew that he was standing outside my bunk but I didn't move. If I remained perfectly still for long enough he'd get the message. Sure enough my plan worked and he let out a frustrated spiel of muttered expletives before retreating back to his own bunk.

I couldn't deal with him right now and frankly I didn't want to deal with him right now. My head was sore from all the alcohol and my pride was aching from the kiss. Was he blind or just plain stupid? I was too tired to work that riddle out, so I decided to close my eyes and try and get some sleep. Try was the operative word, and try as I may, my head was far too full to fall asleep immediately. I puzzled over Daya for ages. How could he not have even felt the tiniest bit of non-platonic vibes coming from me? It was so frustrating. He had let me share his bed, yet if there wasn't a split second where he had considered, even the _possibility_ of something more than friendship, then he was a lost cause and I should just admit defeat and accept that we'd never be anything more than friends. It was a crushing thought.

Slowly I drifted off into a sleep, having confessed to myself that nothing more could be decided or discovered until morning, so there was no purpose in losing sleep fretting about it.

I don't remember much about my dreams that night, all I know is that I did dream, and that it wasn't very nice. I could remember seeing faces laughing at me. I can't remember why they were laughing, but I can remember waking up feeling very self conscious and unhappy. I also woke up feeling very sweaty and hot which I put down to the 'Delhi ki garmi' that Daya had mentioned yesterday. It didn't waste it's time. My headache hadn't yet cleared which made thinking clearly difficult. I visited the pathetically small bathroom to see if washing my face would make me feel any better. It didn't.

I crawled back under the covers, feeling decidedly sorry for myself. I wasn't going to get up until I bloody well had to.  
My wake up came at eleven a.m. when, oddly enough, Abhijeet descended on my bunk. He shook me awake. I was delirious for a few moments, trying to work out if I was dreaming or not.

"Kya kiya tumne," he accused out of the blue. I replied simply by blinking at him in confusion.

"Kya kiya tumne Daya ke saath," he continued harshly, "Tum humesha uske saath kya karti rehti ho huh? Subah se usne ek baat tak nehi ki, na mujhse na kisi or se."

"Ap humesha mujhpe kyu ilzam lagate ho, khud jake usse kyu nehi puchte?" I snapped back, my mannerism much more venomous than I would have liked. One; I was annoyed because of last night, two; he was being rude as usual and I was more than a bit fed up with it. And three; I had a sneaking suspicion my monthly visitor was due. Abhijeet had just chosen the wrong time and place to pick a fight with me.

"Maine koshish kiya hai," he snapped back snidely, "Woh kisi se bat nehi kar raha or kal raat tumse woh baat kar rha tha mujhse nehi. So fix him. Or saath saath apne woh rangeen lipstick lagane wale dost ko bhi sambhalo woh bhi subah se pagal ho gaya hai."

"Maine Apse pehle bhi kaha tha ki Nakul ke bare me esa mat kaho, kya haq banta hai apko use esa kehne ka," I barked back, "Kya CID me apko yeh bhi nehi sikhaya ki logo se kese baat karte hai?"

"Dekho, CID me or bhi hazaro kaam hote hai, tum jeso se nipatne ka kaam humara nehi? God, yeh bus or yeh mission..." Abhijeet groaned before throwing himself into his bunk and sliding the curtain closed angrily. If it had been a door he would have slammed it. Usually I would have paused to feel sorry for Abhijeet, but my sympathy meter was running dangerously close to empty that morning and I simply rolled my eyes before throwing back the covers and once more dragging myself into the bathroom.

It took me much longer than usual to get myself ready because I had to give myself a pep-talk, and persuade myself that going down the little stairs and coming face to face with Daya wouldn't be as painful as I thought it would be. Eventually I had myself persuaded, so I unlocked the door, left my night clothes and wash things in my bunk and went down to the lower deck.

My heart gave an unwelcome lurch when I spotted Daya, who was at the far end of the bus sulking in one of the chairs. Nakul was at the other end, closest to me, and he also appeared to be sulking. I decided that my best friend would be the easiest to start a conversation, even though he had distanced himself from me lately.

"Good morning," I greeted him, forcing a smile even though I didn't particularly feel like smiling.

"Is it?" he replied sourly, "Jaha me betha hua hu or jin logo ke saath betha hua hu, morning kabhi good ho hi nehi sakti."

I hated admitting it to myself but Abhijeet had been right, the usually bright and bubbly Nakul was in an abnormally bad mood today.

"What's up?" I asked, hesitantly. I didn't exactly want to converse with him while he was like this, but the other option was talking to Daya, and that really didn't look to be a winning choice either.

"God it's just... just everything. I'm sick and tired of this _fucking_ tour. Every day it's the same _damn_ thing and do you know how _boring_ that is? Agar mujhe pata hota ki yeh mission ek impossible mission hoga to me yaha kabhi nehi ataa."

An offended 'humph' emitted from where Daya was sitting.

"Hume paise chahiye Nakul," I reminded him, "Besides, agar tu yaha nehi ata to Sid se kese milta."

"Pata hai kyam, usi ke wajah se me abhi bhi yehi hu. Mai apne parents se madad mangta to shayad mujhe insabke saath ese logo ke peeche bhagna na hota jo kabhi dikhte hi nehi, guns, bullets, mera insab se koi vaasta nehi. Huh! Kabhi nithallo ke photo's nehi kheeche mene, or dekh aj me kya kar rha hu! I HATE THIS!"

Nakul was in one of the darkest moods I'd _ever_ seen him in. Firstly, he'd basically insulted me by saying that Sid was the only thing keeping him going, it made me feel decidedly worthless. Secondly, he would never _ever_ go grovelling to his parents even if he was on his death bed and needed money for an operation to save his life, that's just how things were. Another point, was that he loved photography, and when he said that he'd rather go see his parents than take photos, alarm bells went off in my head. Something big was up, but I couldn't work out what. None of this was exactly helping my headache.

"God I need some...," he paused, " I need a drink or... or... something," he growled irritably as he got up off his seat and started to root around noisily in the kitchen, muttering expletives every so often when he couldn't find what he was looking for.

Sighing, I glanced over at Daya, expecting him to be looking out the window. That wasn't the case. As I looked over at him I found him staring at me. Quickly I looked away again, and hoped that it had just been a coincidence. I could feel my face flush. Looking over at him again, his eyes hadn't moved and he was still looking at me, practically boring through my head with his eyes.

"Kya hua?!" I asked suddenly, not liking the feeling of being watched like that. He folded his arms and leant back into his chair.

"Yeh mat puchna! Tumhe pata hai kya hua hai," Daya replied gruffly.

When I didn't answer, he sighed and uncrossed his arms, his face relaxing out of its frown.  
"Kal raat...drinking...nashe me kya kiya...yaad hai kuch?"

I was met with a dilemma. I could either tell the truth and say that I did remember every sordid detail of the previous night, or I could lie and say that I'd been paralytic and couldn't remember a thing. If I did lie, everything would go back to normal and we'd all go back to playing happy families in blissful ignorance of my feelings. If I told the truth, I risked possible humiliation and irreparable damage that would leave an awkward edge to our relationship. However, there was also the possibility that he could have feelings for me too, but after his reaction last night I doubted that highly. Lying looked like the better option.

"Huh, Jhanvi ko har ek baat yaad hoti hai," Nakul muttered from the kitchen.

"Nakul..." I hissed between gritted teeth. The lying option was now ruled out and I'd have to live with him knowing the truth.

Daya got to his feet and made his way down the bus, taking up a seat opposite me. He looked me dead in the eye.  
"Kya tum sach bol rahi thi kal raat... ya fir sharab ka asar... woh sab tumne dil se kaha tha kya?"

"Jhanvi kabhi jhoot nehi bolti jab bhi nashe me hoti hai. Kabhi kabhi to ese ese sach ugal deti hai jo ki iske liye bhi dangerous ho," Nakul interrupted again.

"Nakul!" I scolded again, "Bhagwaan ne mujhe bhi zuban di hai bolne ke liye."

"Zuban... tune apne zuban ka kabhi sahi dhang se istemal kiya, bhagwaan bhi chahta hai ki tu apne zuban ka istemal sahi kaamo me lagayi...ab zuban se jure or kaam badme bhi ho sakta hai, you know!" he continued.

Even Daya blushed that time.  
"Nakul, beta!" I almost begged this time. I _really_ didn't like this mood he was in.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Daya continued.  
"Uh, okay..."  
He took a deep breath that I didn't like. It sounded like he was a doctor about to tell a patient that they had a terminal illness.  
"Main sach bata rahi hu Daya, kabhi kabhi me pagal ko tarah harkat karti hu, sharab ke nashe me, pretending to be stupid, matlab samajh rahe ho na..."

"You've been _pretending_ to be stupid?" Nakul interrupted with an added mock gasp for effect, "Aree waah humare Bus ki new Hema Malini, yaar tu pretend bhi karti hai, ab to Karan Johar ko contact karna parega."

"Nakul, shut up!" both Daya and I shouted simultaneously. Daya was on his feet with his fists clenched and for one scary moment I thought he was going to kill Nakul. The photographer put both hands on his hips, defiant for a moment, before conceding.

"Fine, fine... mujhe pata hai kisi ko meri zarurat nehi hai ab," he snapped before disappearing up the stairs in a huff.

Daya groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he flopped down into the seat beside me.  
"I can't deal with this," he muttered, letting his head hit the table with a thump, "This always happens. Jab bhi koi case had se zyada time lagta hai solve karne me to hum ek dusre ke hi..."

I patted him on the back gingerly, trying to muster up whatever sympathy I could manage. Nobody talked for a while, and I all about gave up hope that he would continue what he was saying before Nakul had interrupted. He let out another long sigh.

"Right, koi interrupt nehi karega ab..."

"Abhijeet bhi nehi?"

"Just... shush... please," he hushed me. "Ab batao yar kal kya hua tha, you weren't sober put it like that... Sach batau to I didn't know if that was how you really felt or not and I wanted to wait to see if you remembered. Ya fir nashe ke wajah se tum woh sab..keh rahi thi!"

"Kal tumhe idea tha ki mere dimag me kya chal raha hai? I fail to see the logic in that," I noted.

"It makes sense in my head," he defended himself, "But last night... when you said that you still liked me... I didn't want to do anything then and there, because the last time you said that... we nearly had a first class disaster on our hands. Hum dono ki reputation ka Ganga Jamuna hone wala tha!"

"Sorry," I muttered.

"Yeah... and I didn't want to make the same mistake based on you saying something you may or may not have meant just because you'd drunken all the Bacardi breezers. Jo...tumne mere saath us raat kiya, jab tum Magazine me kaam karti thi, shayad mene tumhe waqt se pehle hi maaf kar diya tha, jabki Abhijeet ko abhi bhi tumpe bhot gussa ata hai, me nehi chahta firse kuch ho you know."

"Agar yeh ek settled lovestory bhi nehi hai, to fir iska naam shayad..."

" Unsettled lovestory?" Daya finished. There was an awkward silence.

"So..." I began hoping to salvage the conversation that really hadn't reached a conclusion from what I could gather.

"You... tum ne hi us din kaha tha, cafe me, us raat ke baad, ke hum friends rahenge..."

"No, maine kaha tha 'I wish we could start over'," I corrected him.

"Well, mujhe laga tumhe me ek dost hi acha lagta hu, or wahi mene kiya jo tumhe comfortable lage..."

I nodded, hardly breathing for fear of missing the next few words. From starting out like he was going to tell me I was dying, this wasn't sounding too bad.

"But... agar... I don't know... agar tum is rishte ho age le jana chahti ho..."

He paused, turning around to look at me, those eyes of his turning me to mush.  
"Agar tum chahti ho yeh... mujhe isse koi problem, nehi hoga. Kyu ki me bhi tumhe bohot...pasand karta hu."

It felt as though there had been an explosion inside my chest and I couldn't help but let my mouth spread into a grin as wide as I could get it. He laughed and beamed back at me. We just sat there giggling and smiling at each other for god knows how long.

"Ab?" I asked.

"Ab kuch bhi karna par kiss mat karna, atleast mere samne to nehi," grunted someone from behind. We turned to face Abhijeet, who was leaning up against the small kitchen's counter with his arms folded, "Kyuki mene abhi abhi apna khana khaya hai or mujhe ulti nehi karna."

I was sure that I could see a small smile trying to break through his face. Daya spotted it too because this time he aimed his grin at his best friend.

"Fir ek balti dhundlo apne liye Abhijeet," Daya added, before turning back to face me and planting an unexpected kiss on my lips. It took me by surprise, but I didn't let that stop me. I had _weeks_ of frustration to vent, and I sure as hell wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.

"YAAACK CHEEE!" Abhijeet made retching noises in the background, but I couldn't care less. I was in heaven.


	8. Chapter 8

**You guys are extremely amazing, with all such beautiful comments and suggestions. I am so happy that everyone is enjoying this. And with the suggestions, most of you want a love triangle which is a really really good suggestion and i am going to develop it. So right now m going to reveal who Shreya is. Because the whole story is in Jhanvi's perspective so use abhi tak itna bhi nehi pata ki yeh Shreya kis khet ki muli hai! So intro pehle or drama and jhol badme! Till I develop the base of the drama why dont you guys enjoy this chapter and keep giving me amazing comments and suggestions! Thanks to Smruti and DreamPrincess and everyone of you for the support! Keep enjoying! 3 3**

When the bus pulled up to the newest venue which was a few kilometres away from Delhi, Nakul practically bolted without so much as a goodbye. To be honest I didn't pay much attention to this, I was still floating in my own little bubble of bliss with Daya. He seemed to be glowing with pride as he marched across the car park past all the crew, holding my hand with our fingers interlocked, a sign that he wasn't merely holding my hand because he was leading me somewhere for safety, but because he wanted to. Apologetically though, he let it go when we had to walk past where the team was queuing. He didn't want to cause a scene, and I personally didn't want to be nationally known on the internet as 'Kya yeh Daya ki Girlfriend hai'.

Watching the team investigate the area and plant bugs, I was still in a little daze, so much so that I didn't notice my best friend approaching me with great speed. He crashed into me, wrapping his arms around me in a smothering embrace.

"Jhanuuu!" he squealed, "Jhanvi mujhe pata chal gaya! You and Daya were holding hands. Oh my god it was so cute. Akhir kar tum dono ne izhaar kar liya? Finally, tum dono ne muh khol liya."

It took me a moment to recover. Both his embrace and drastic mood change had left me breathless.

"Yeah, we worked it out," I replied, feeling compelled to grin, "Kya baat hai mood apka bhot acha hai aj."

"Oh yeah. Sorry about earlier," he sighed, waving his hand in an overly camp way, "I was just having a bad morning. But I'm okay now. Woh kesa hai?"

"Woh kon?"

"Are Daya, or kon."

"He's... fine. I think?"  
I felt as though I was missing something.

"No...no, no, no," Nakul laughed, "Mera matlab woh nehi tha, woh wese kesa hai? You know..." he finished by nudging me with his elbow. I still didn't follow. Nakul let out a frustrated sigh.  
"Is he good in _sex_?"

"Nakul!" I gasped in alarm, fearing the whole stadium had heard that. Purvi asked if I was fine, I nodded before turning back to Nakul.

"What?" he shrugged, "I'm just curious. So is he?"

I looked at my watch.  
"Yar sirf do ghante tees minute hue hai hum dono ko yeh decision lene me ki baat age bar sakti hai ya nehi."

"Your point?"

"Meaning that, funnily enough, we haven't had sex yet."

"Why not? I would've."

I just rolled my eyes and laughed. Secretly though, I was loving Nakul's attention, because whatever had happened since he'd gotten off the bus, he'd become my old Nakul again.

"Jhanvi?" someone called my name. I turned to the person within a second.

"Oh. Hello." I fail to hide my surprise. She's of a small frame yet stunning, with bobb cut hair.

"Main Shreya."

She holds out an elegant hand and gives me a limp handshake. "Daya Sir mere Senior hai."

I note her choice of words and force a smile. "That's good, ap dono ache dost ho haina?"

"Yehi samjho, kal unhone mujhe phone kiya tha or kaha tha ki ap unke saath is mission pe aye ho! Or yeh bhi kaha tha me apko accompany karu."She looks down at me and takes a seat next to me. I looked away for a while. Nakul cleared his throat and introduces himself to her.

"To ap dono ek dusre ko kabse jaante ho?" Shreya asks. I pretend to count in my mind.

"Ek saal se zyada!" I lied.  
"Acha, wese sach kahu to mujhe yakeen nehi hota ki Daya Sir _apke _ache dost hai!" She commented. I just wondered why she is throwing zingers at me like this.

"Daya Sir sirf dost nehi hai Shreya ji, yeh to ab inke boy—" I kicked Nakul sharply on the back of his leg.

"Oof, mera matlab Best Friend Forever! Ban gaye hai!"

"Oh!"She hesitates, "Stange!" She mutters.  
We are in the outskirt of Delhi the next morning which was hotter than the day before and it was clear the weather was changing. As the weather heated up, so did the tension on the bus. Shreya, the new girl in my perspective has been giving me strange looks. Like she cannot understand how I am here. Nakul was making a routine of waking up in a grumpy mood then disappearing and reappearing an hour later bouncing about like a hyperactive child on Drugs. Abhijeet also couldn't make up his mind about how he wanted to view me. One moment he'd be smiling at Daya and I while we snuggled up to watch a movie or helping each other to find clues, the next he'd be shooting us deathly glares before storming up the bus steps to sulk in his bunk. It was annoying my head.

The relationship dynamics between Daya and I had hardly changed at all, showing that we had been kidding ourselves that we had always been simply 'friends'. The only _real_ difference was the kissing. We'd kissed a number of times and most were innocent and short, nothing had metaphorically set me on fire yet, but I supposed Daya was being cautious not to dive straight into the deep end...again. Ever since Nakul had mentioned it, I couldn't get the thought of sex out of my head. I didn't want to push Daya though; I'd just have to sit tight until he was ready.

Two nights after my drunken confession of love, try as I may, I couldn't sleep. The heat of this 'Delhi ki Garmi' mixed with the broken air conditioning in my bunk made staying in my little bed completely unbearable. Sighing heavily, I swung my legs over the side and padded my bare feet across the carpet, hoping that I wouldn't trip or make any other loud noises that could wake anybody else up. It baffled me how anyone else could sleep in the heat, but then again, everyone else's air conditioning was probably working. Tarika had shifted her luggage in our bus, so she decided to move to a bunk next to Abhijeet. I felt good for that. A girl is hugely required at times like this. But she was deeply sleeping so I didn't wake her up.

I had decided that a spell outside in the night air would cool me down. Lifting a cushion off one of the couches, I pried open the bus door and set the cushion as a wedge, so that I wouldn't be locked out. The night was clear, yes, but still stiflingly hot. At least there was a pleasantly cool breeze on my face that allowed me to breathe.

It was beautiful outside the bus; the clear sky gave way to the brightest stars I think I'd ever seen. Millions and millions of little dots in a black expanse of nothingness greeted me as I tilted my head and looked up. I walked across the grass barefoot, letting it tickle in between my toes. Not far from the bus was a little picnic table that belonged to the caravan site that we had chosen to park in for the night. I made my way across and sat down on the top. Crickets were chirping in the bushes close by, and somewhere near, a dog was howling at a fairly impressive moon. It wasn't a full moon, but still this didn't take away from her beauty. It was moments like this where I'd wish, just for one wild moment, that I could be an astronaut just so I could stand on its dusty white surface and shake hands with the man on the moon, metaphorically speaking of course. There was no _real_ man on the moon.

Being out in the open air not only allowed me to breathe clearly, but allowed me to think clearly for the first time in the last few days. Ever since Daya and I had agreed that we'd take things a step further between us, you would have thought that things would have changed for the better, that all my problems would have solved themselves. The fact of the matter was, instead of getting better, things seemed to have gotten worse. Nakul's mood swings were getting progressively worse and I was starting to get concerned for him. He had distanced himself, and I wanted to know what the hell was going on with his life to make him so volatile. Abhijeet mirrored the photographer's yo-yo like moods. One minute I could swear that he was smiling at me and Daya, like he was officially giving his consent despite how unforgiving he'd been previously to me. At other times he was colder than he'd ever be, and looked at me in a way that suggested he'd rip me limb from limb if I so much touched his friend's head. It was driving me crazy. The tour didn't seem to be as much fun anymore, just confusing and way more taxing than it ought to be.

A twig snapped behind me and my heart leapt up into my mouth. Whirling around, I certainly wasn't expecting to see the person I saw there. Abhijeet held his hands up apologetically.  
"Sorry, me tumhe chokana nehi chahta tha."

"S'ok," I mumbled as I turned back around to look at whatever I had been looking at before Abhijeet had made his presence known. I hadn't really been looking at anything in particular, I'd just been thinking.

Slowly, he made his way and sat down beside me on the wooden table top. I shifted over to make room for him.

"Yeh park bhot khubsoorat hai," he noted awkwardly after a few moments. I hummed a vague agreement, not wanting to say anything for fear of saying something wrong and sparking an argument.

"Tum soyi nehi?" he asked. I shook my head. A simple shake of the head sufficed because I knew he could see me, I could feel his eyes watching me and it made me feel uncomfortable. All the time he'd spent shutting me out had adversely caused a barrier between us and I simply didn't want to be near him much. Even after everything, it still surprised me how vastly different best friends could be, and how people could feel completely different about each of them.

"Ander..bhot suffocation ho raha tha mujhe," I eventually said to break the silence that had ensued between us. Abhijeet nodded his head in agreement.

"Ab kya kare mission me hume khana or pani mil raha hai yeh bhot hai, ab bas yeh jald se jald khatam ho jai, Delhi wese hi bhot garm hai. Looks like nature is making it difficult for us to solve the case."

He reached inside the vast expanse of one of his trouser pockets and pulled out a lighter and a rather squashed looking packet of cigarettes. He offered me one, but I refused. I'd nearly choked to death on my first and last cigarette. He had smoked half of it before either of us spoke again, ending yet another spell of painful awkwardness.

"Jhanvi mujhe tumse..." Abhijeet began. It seemed to me that he'd effectively followed me out of the bus on a mission to say something, and it had taken him this length of time to find the courage to say it.  
"Me tumse bhot nafrat karta tha, jabse tumne Daya ke liye woh plan racha tha, woh mera dost hi nehi, mera bhai hai."

"Mujhe pata hai," I answered simply. It was understandable that I could have fucked up things really badly for Daya. Abhijeet had taken it upon himself to look after his 'only best friend', and I had come so close to causing irreversible damage, and Abhijeet had taken it personally. If not a little too personally, but maybe I would feel the same in his position.

"Par jo bhi ho, mene jo tumhare saath itne dino se kiya, woh bhi kam galat nehi han, me larkiyo aksar ache se peshata hu, me manta hu ki mene battameezi se tumse baat kiya hai."

I didn't know whether to agree that he had been a battameez, or to lie and say he hadn't just to make him feel better. So I didn't say anything.

"Or uske upar se ek or kaaran hai jiske wajah se me tumhe accept nehi kar pa rha tha, tum Shreya ko janti ho."

I didint answer as I could clearly make where this is going. Speech was still failing me, so I stared into the darkness, trying to distinguish one tree from another. Abhijeet sighed and continued.

"Shayad Daya ne kabhi tumhe Shreya ke bare me bataya nehi, Kal bhi mene use kaha tha ki sab kuch sach sach bata de, par Daya...Khair! Shreya or Daya ek dusre ko bohot chahte the. Jab se Shreya humare bureau ka ek hissa bani hai tabse Daya or usme kuch na kuch to chalta hi hai. Silent love ya pata nehi kya! Me bhi chahta tha ki Daya ab shaadi karle, Shreya se apne dil ki baat kar le. Par sab kuch ulta fulta hogya. Shreya or Daya me baat kabhi age hi nehi bari, dono ek dusre ko kabhi kuch nehi kehte. Bat itni bigar gayi ki mere or Daya ke beech me bhi darar parne lage. Shreya ko leke. Shreya ke liye ek or larka aya, uske papa ne uske liye chuna tha use. Shreya ne jaldbazi ki or Siddharth ko Ha keh di. Jis wajah se Daya or Shreya me baat or bigar gayi. Hum chahke bhi kuch nehi kar paye. Ab Shreya or Siddharth ki mangni bhi ho gayi, is December un dono ki shaadi hai. Or Daya bhi is baat se khush hai, kyuki woh esa kabhi chahta ki Shreya ko uske wajah se taqlif ho. Par me nehi chahta ki Daya akela rahe. Me humesha Shreya ko hi apni bhabhi, or Daya ke liye sabse acha choice manta tha. Daya ne mujhe humesha kaha tha ki jo beeti baate hai woh bhul jane me hi bhalai hai. Tab jab Daya Shreya ko bhulane hi wala tha..."  
He looked at me, I could feel his eyes on me, "Tab tum Daya ke zindagi me ek nayi paheli banke agayi. Daya Shreya ko bhulane ke liye tumhare kareeb aane laga. Or me yeh janta tha ki yu is tarah kareeb ana thik nehi, isiliye jab tum us din interview ke bahane uske pas ane ki koshish kar rhi thi, to me beech me arha tha. Me nehi chahta tha ki woh emotion me dub ke kuch esa wesa kare jise use thes poche." He sighed.

"Or wahi hua! Jiska mujhe dar tha wahi hua! Tumne us raat uske sath bhot hi galat kiya. Or is wajah se me tumse bhot nafrat karne laga. Jitna Daya ne bhi nehi kiya, usse kayi zyada nafrat me tumse karta tha. Woh or bhi tumhare kareeb agya or woh mujhe pasand nehi tha. Kyuki me chahta tha ki Daya ko sambhalne ke liye Shreya jesi larki ki zyada zarurat hai. Mene Shreya ko bhot manaya, Shreya ko yeh sochne pe majboor kiya ki Daya hi uske liye thik hai or woh shayad ab bhi wahi chahti hai jo pehle Daya chahta tha. Par Daya ne uske bare me sochna hi band kar diya. Shreya wala chapter kab khatam hua or kab Jhanvi wala chapter shuru hua pata hi nehi chala. Ab Daya Shreya ko sirf ek acha dost or CID ka ek honhar officer manta hai! Ab mujhe ehsas hua ki woh jo chahta hai shayad tum hi woh pura kar sakti ho. Shayad me galat hu! Shayad tumhe maaf karna Daya ki samajhdari thi! Isliye mene soch liya ki me ab tumse or nafrat nehi karunga! Kyuki tum hi shayad Daya ke liye bani ho, Shreya nehi!"  
I remained silent, not because I was ignoring him, but because I'd gone into a mild state of shock. I'd only ever dreamed of Abhijeet saying sorry and forgiving me. I expected us to just go on living our lives avoiding each other, until we got to a point where he accepted that I wasn't going anywhere in a hurry, and that everyone would be, if not happy, at least content. Yet, here he was apologising to me.

"Kya mene tumhe itna bura bhala keh diya ki ab tum mere baato ka jawab hi nehi dogi?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"No, sorry," I blabbered, "Me bas soch rahi thi, mera dimag ne itni raat ko shayad kaam karna band kar band kar diya hai, shayad." I let out a long breath that I seemed to have been holding for the past six months.  
"Thank-you."

Abhijeet gave a little nod of his head that appeared to say 'You're welcome'.

Abhijeet finished the rest of his cigarette, stubbing it out on the little table. One question burned on the tip of my tongue, and I simply couldn't ignore it.

"Ap Shreya ko leke mujhse gussa the ya fir us article ko leke jo mene kabhi release hi nehi hone diya?" I posed.

As he flicked away the butt-end he chuckled a little.  
"Sirf woh dono wajah nehi thi tumse nafrat karne ki."

"Or kya wajah ho sakti hai?" I pressed, desperate to get everything out of him before he changed his mind and decided that being pissed off with me was better than trying to be friendly.

"Like..." he paused, apparently reluctant to share with me, "Like... Usne tumhe apne life ka esa hissa bana diya hai, jo kabhi me tha. Usne mujhe replace kar diya. Woh ab har ek baat tumse share karta hai! Thora ajeeb to lagta hi hai. Itna acha dost kabhi kisi larki ke wajah se apne dost se thora dur ho jai...Ajeeb to lagta hi hai!"

Frowning, I leant back a little in surprise. Was he _insane_?

"Abhijeet..." I laughed, "Me kabhi bhi...das janamo me bhi nehi chahungi ki ap dono alag ho ya me apko replace karu Daya ke zindagi me!"

"Kehna asaan hai karna nehi," he mumbled, "He was always talking about you, and he would always talk to you on the phone, or kuch kehta hi nehi woh mujhse, kuch share hi nehi karta woh. Itna deewana koi sirf filmo me hi ho sakta hai."

"Woh shayad apse dur isiliye ho gaya tha kyuki ap mujhse nafrat karte the! Kabhi yeh sochke dekha hai?" I asked, stating the obvious.

Abhijeet sighed.  
"Thik kaha, it was my own fault. He distanced himself from me because of the way I felt about you, which made me hate you even more, isiliye sab ulta ho gya. Don't get me wrong though, I'm glad he has you, it makes him happy. Mujhe humesha yeh lagta tha ki jab koi larki uske zindagi me aye to uske liye ek dam perfect ho. Us incident ke baad me kabhi soch bhi nehi sakta tha ki tum uske liye thik bhi ho! Or woh ek dam galat soch thi meri! Or ek baat!"

"What?" I asked, slightly confused. He waved me off with his hand.

"Choro, me in sab baato ko daba dena chahta hu."

Still feeling a bit puzzled, I turned back to look out over the moon bathed caravan site.

"Bas ek or baat hai..."

I looked around at him only to find him now so close that I had literally no time to react before he pressed his lips against mine. For a brief moment my whole body was frozen on the spot, my eyes wide with shock. Then, as if someone had pressed the 'play' button on a celestial remote control, my motor skills returned and I did the first thing that came to my head.

I smacked him across the face so hard that I was sure Tarika would have flinched in her sleep. Abhijeet recoiled, nursing his jaw with one hand.

"What... the... fuck dimag kharab hai tumhara Abhijeet?" I managed breathlessly as I re-adjusted my glasses. To my surprise, and somewhat disbelief, Abhijeet started to snicker. For a moment I thought he'd gone crazy.

"Very good," he laughed, "Kya reaction tha. I'll give you an A-, tumne hesitation ke saath mujhe thappad mara uske liye ek point kat diya."

Marks? Hesitation? Abhijeet was speaking gibberish, and I began to think I'd hit him so hard I'd killed a part of his brain.

"W...What?" I stammered.

"Samjho me Daya ke liye tumhe parakh raha tha, yeh ek loyalty test tha jo tum bhot ache se pas kar gayi, congratulations."

"I'm still confused."

"Yeh mene kahi para tha," he shrugged, "Ki agar apka koi kareebi pyaar me itna andha ho jai ki woh apne pyar ko parakhta nehi to hume hi kuch karna chahiye, to test if you are suitable for him. Or tumne acha kiya!"

"So you don't want to kiss me?" I asked, requesting clarity.

"You're an attractive and pretty decent girl Jhanvi but I'm sorry to say that no, I don't want to kiss you. Mere liye Tarika hi kafi hai! Or wese bhi tum or tumhara woh Daya pata nehi kese kese kisses try karte rehte ho, mujhe ab apna muh dhona hoga, yaak!"

"You're safe, Daya or me HIV negative hai" I sighed, rolling my eyes at his dramatisation.

"Tarika ko is test ke bare me mat batana thik hai?" he asked. I nodded.  
" ke andar chale bhot raat ho gayi, mera matlab shayad subah bhi ho gayi hogi?"  
Nodding again, I got to my feet and stretched out my back, before following him.

"Did you leave the cushion in the door when you came out?" I asked him.

"What cushion?"

"Mene ek cusion rakha tha bus ke door ke beech me taki door andar se na band ho jai."

Abhijeet groaned, shutting his eyes as he visibly cringed. I smacked my palm off my forehead.

"Abhijeet yar. Ab hum ander kese jaige? Hum bahar se band hai!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Peoples with so many awesome suggestions and comments...I am totally taking up the ideas of you guys and frankly speaking I think you guys will love the end of it! Anyways this chapter isnt so much of what you have been expecting...triangle and stuff, since i am building the plot now! And to Smruti, like I said none of our CID character is portrayed as a villain, so I wont do that either... But ofc the triangle will be created nonetheless! So till I explode things like Diwali crackers, you guys enjoy some heated romance of our love birds! Now wonder what I am talking about! Heated romance! *Giggles*! Alright enjoy Peeeople! And yes I am going to involve some Kevi for the ones who love Kevi birdies! So comment and suggest! 'S all I ever need! :D**

"Hum ander kese jaye ab? Koi chance hai ki is waqt koi khol de humare liye darwaza?" I sighed, placing my hands on my hips.

"Kam... Bhot kam chances hai. Daya or sab gehri neend me he or koi kholne wala nehi hai. Sarunkhe Saab ka pata nehi par jaha tak me unhe jaanta hu woh jaan buchke darwaza nehi kholenge," Abhijeet grunted, "What about Nakul. Woh khol sakta hai?"

"Not possible, couldn't wake him with plastic explosives," I muttered.

"Oh god," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, "This is bad. What time is it?"

"No idea."

My annoyance was significant as I looked around in the dark, trying to think of a solution.

"Hum Nikhil ke bus me bhi to ja sakte hai haina?" I asked, beginning to walk towards the bus parked a few metres away. Abhijeet grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

"Nehi pagal ho kya Pankaj bhi wahi hai or dono ke dono sabse khatarnak hai, Tarika ko jake kuch na kuch bata denge."

"Well have you got any bright ideas then?" I snapped back, narrowing my eyes slightly.

Abhijeet picked up the pillow that had fallen out from the door, dusted off the gravel and tossed it to me, a slightly sinister smirk playing across his lips.  
"Hope you like the outdoors."

"And what if it rains?"

"Waha ek picnic table hai wahi kuch intezam karte hai."

"You've done this before," I stated, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Chee mene tumhe kiss kya kar liya tum to mujhe esa wesa samajh rahi ho!" he grinned, looking decidedly disgusted with himself.

"Agar sab kuch thik raha to shayad tumne abhi apni hone wali bhabhi ko kiss kiya hai," I chided sarcastically, rolling my eyes as I made my way over to the picnic table. He followed.

"Sorry, tumhe bura laga ho to par yeh mera farz tha, Daya ke liye kuch bhi. If you're looking a cotton candy relationship with teddy bears, to itna to sehen karna hi parega, kaam hi esa kiya tha tumne."

"Yaar, bas ab ho gaya na yaar, maaf karo kitni baar mafi mangu tumse me."

"You're no fun," he laughed.

I tossed the pillow under the table.  
"Tum kaha souge?"

"I'll stay on top."

"I thought you weren't interested in me?" I asked, trying my best to look serious and not give in to the giggles that were trying to push their way up from my stomach.

"Of the _table_," he sneered, but with no malice. Sniggering, I crawled under the table and tried to get as comfy as I could given the cold and uncomfortable stones that I was now lying on.

"Tumne yeh jo loyalty test hai, kisi or pe bhi try kiya tha kya," I asked him, stifling a yawn.

"A few," he answered, sounding slightly reluctant.

"Sachi, Shreya ke saath bhi?"

"Mazak bhi nehi samajhti, kya larki dhunda hai Daya ne, god."

"Yeh tumhara loyalty test bhot controversial hai, yakeen kyu na karu?" I asked, glaring slightly at the table above me. There was a small silence.

"Daya ke liye kuch bhi, uski khushi me agar mujhe jhukna bhi pare to wohi sahi."

Chuckling, I closed my eyes. It wasn't long before a wave of goose bumps prickled my skin. I had come outside seeking a refreshing breeze to cool me down. Now all I wanted was to get back inside my little bunk and under the covers.

"It's cold," I complained sleepily. There was a rustling above me and a few seconds later something soft flumped down onto the ground near to my head. Opening my eyes to investigate, I found his zip up jacket lying in the grass.  
"Aren't you going to get cold?" I asked him as I picked it up and opened it out until it was nearly the size of a blanket.

"Nah, I'll be fine."

Snuggling up under the boy fragranced jacket I closed my eyes and attempted to sleep again. Eventually I managed to, but it was never for long. I didn't know the time, but it felt as though I was waking up every five minutes, the gentle snuffling sounds from above me told me that Abhijeet wasn't finding it as hard to sleep. The last time I awoke the light had dramatically changed and the sun was about half way up the sky. I must have managed to sleep for a longer period of time because the last time I'd been woken by the cold and hard ground beneath me it had still been dark.

"Aj to ap dono ki band bajne wali hai," said a recognisable voice. I turned my head slightly to see Kavin sitting in a small fold out chair in the middle of the grass wearing just shorts and a pair of flip flops.

I yawned.  
"Kyu?"

He didn't reply, simply pointed a finger beside me. Turning around I groaned. I kicked the body that lay beside mine.  
"Abhijeet!"

Abhijeet let out a sleepy string of speech that made absolutely no sense at all. I kicked him again, purely because it made me feel better. He opened his eyes.

"Hey sweetheart."

"Dr. Tarika plastic surgery karwa ke Jhanvi kabse ban gayi?" Kavin chuckled, finding some sadistic amusement in our situation.

"Tu nehi samjhega Kavin," Abhijeet replied with a grin.

I kicked him again.  
"Kya hai?" he asked, slightly irritated.

"What are you doing?" I hissed.

"Raat ko thand bhot thi na," he mumbled.

"Tum mard ho na, control karo," I snapped crawling out from under the table and getting to my feet. Turning to Kavin I offered our explanation. "Jo tum soch rahe ho wesa kuch nehi hai."i G

"achawww," Kavin smiled smugly.

"We got locked out!" I protested innocently.

"Jaan, agar yeh excuse bolke mamla suljane ki koshish kar rhi ho to me bhi tumhare saath saath sabse yehi jhoot kahunga, meri Jaan," Abhijeet called after me. My blood was slowly beginning to boil. As if to make matters worse Kavin was sniggering.

"Bastard," I yelled back, finding his little game far from amusing. Both of them started howling with laughter. I got up immdiately and began walking back to the bus

"Oh come on it's a joke, Jaan."

"Mera naam Jaan nehi Jhanvi hai, or yeh tumhara sense of humor bhot bekar hai," I half shouted, half sneered back at him. Apart from being annoyed at him, I was tired, stiff and cold. I just wanted to get back to my little bunk. I trudged across the grass to the bus and banged on the door impatiently.

Abhijeet caught up with me.  
"Yaar suno to sahi, Kavin ka idea tha, me to upar hi so raha tha, abhi das minute pehle woh aya or usne mujhe kaha ese pas me let ne ke liye, bas or kuch nehi, pakka."

"Agar woh tumse kahe building se high jump maro tum maro ge, batao?" I snapped.

"I'm sorry, really. It was only meant to be a joke."

I sighed. It was impossible to resist his face. He is as convincing as Daya, and I can never fight again any of them.

"Fine," I grumbled. Just then the door opened. Daya stood on the steps with his arms folded and a look of thunder on his face. Tarika was right beside him with a sour look with hands on her hips.

"Tum DONO raat bhar kya kar rahe the," Daya snarled. I rolled my eyes.

"Abhijeet tum apne dosto ke saath milke mujhe kyu sata rahe ho, yeh bhi to tumhara saath mila hua hoga haina..."  
The look on Abhijeet's face was enough to answer my own question. He'd gone deathly silent and all colour had departed from his face. Quickly I snapped my head back around to Daya.

"Jhanvi, itni bholi banne ki koshish mat karo, mat bhulo hum CID se hai!" Tarika taunted. Abhijeet cringed silently.  
"Ha to me kya keh raha tha?" he spat through clenched teeth, "Bolo, mujhe jawab chahiye, tum dono se."

My heart was beating a million times a minute. I didn't know what Daya and Tarika had seen, but it defiantly couldn't have been the good stuff because he looked as though he was about to kill someone. He exchanged glances with Tarika for a split second. Then suddenly, a crack appeared in the corner of his mouth. Then his face completely crumbled and he began to giggle hysterically. Tarika also burst out laughing for a good time.

"I'm sorry," Daya gasped, "Your faces..."

Abhijeet and I exchanged equally confused glances. Tarika whispered something in Daya's ears and he nodded.

"It's okay, Mene kal raat sab kuch dekha tha or suna bhi tha. Koi kisi pe gussa nehi hai. Except..." he jumped down from the step and approached his friend. Extending a hand he slapped him across the side of the head.  
"Yeh jo kal tune use kiss kiya uske liye, Jhanvi sirf meri hai, samjha?"

"Loud and clear," Abhijeet muttered, massaging the spot where he'd been hit. He quickly moved next to Tarika and took her hands, kissing them. She blushed deeply.

"Or koi Loyalty test to nehi karoga na tum Abhijeet! Kyu ki bhot dangerous he yeh!" She ranted

"And you," he said turning to me with a smile. Leaning down he kissed me on the lips. "Good girl, he hasn't been slapped half often enough."  
He shied away before realizing something.  
"Ek minute," piped up Abhijeet, "Daya tune kal raat humari saari bate suni. Fir tune hume ander kyu nehi ane diya?"

Daya turned his head slowly.  
"Oops?" he offered with a nervous giggle. Abhijeet's eyes narrowed.

"Aj nehi bachega tu, sale," he growled, before leaping at his best friend. Daya let out a high pitched gasp as he jumped out of the way and hopped onto the bus and up the little stair case two steps at a time. Abhijeet was hot on his heels.

"Daya tu gaya, ACP sir ko bataunga me!" yelled Abhijeet, "Do you have any idea how kitne machar the bahar raat ko?"

"Tumhari Galati hai, bahar kyu nikle itne raat ko!"

"Me ACP ko bataunga tu bhot battameez insan hai!"

"Me Chitrole ko bataunga!"

"Chalna, Chitrole se teri fat ti hai!"

"Chup Daya, me bhot gusse me hu!"

Several more swear words flew back and forth along with the occasional thud, followed by someone yelling 'Oww'.

"Jab yeh dono ese larte hai na, tabhi ehsas hota hai ki ab sab thik hai!" Tarika sighed nonchalantly as she appeared at my side.

"Mhmm," I agreed.

"What's going on?" asked Nakul who had also joined the party standing outside the bus, accompanied by Sid.

"CID ke jawaan gali ke kutto ke tarah lar rahe hai," Tarika explained.

"Yeh to bhot achi baat hai, haina?" Sid chirped.

"I love a good bitch fight," Nakul giggled with glee, turning to his boyfriend, "Want to join in?"

"Do I ever."

The two disappeared up the stairs. Tarika and I took one look at each other before dissolving into hysterics.

My small, cramped, non-air-conditioned bunk had never ever been as comfortable as it was after I had spent a night sleeping on gravel. I slept most of the day, skipping sound check and the concert with the investigation. I could make something up for the updates or ask Nakul. It was about eleven at night, and I was somewhere between being awake and being asleep when somebody crawled in beside me. Full consciousness came quickly, and I rolled over to see who it was. Not that I needed to really.

"Hey," Daya whispered softly.

"Hey," I replied though a sleepy smile, "How'd it go?"

"Fine," he replied, "Abhijeet bhot smart ban gaya hai, humne ek surag dhund li he uske madad se."

"Uske mere saath raat bhar bahar sulane ka natija!"

"Chup raho, aj se uske itne karib ane ki zarurat nehi. Wese us raat ke liye I am sorry, me woh darwaze kholna hi chahta tha but I thought you would have banged on the door, and I thought someone else would have opened it. Then I fell asleep I guess. I am sorry, maaf kardo?"

"Ese nehi, me soch ke bataungi ki mujhe kya chahiye, its an apology token of gesture."

He chuckled.  
"Wese me jatana to nehi chahta par aj cross firing hui thi!" He said with a straight face.

"Oh my god! Or mujhe pata nehi chala!" I looked at him. His face has number of tiny scratches. His left arm was binded with bandages.  
"Tum sab safely is mission ko solve kar paoge na, mujhe pata nehi kyu dar lag rha hai ab. Kaha chot lagi batao?" I asked, he shrugged and pulled me, snuggling close. The sweet feeling of being safe washed over me as he wrapped his arms around me.

"Relax, I'll survive."

"Where and I'll kiss it better."

He laughed again.  
"If you want the truth it's my shoulder. If you want me to lie I can think of a _number_ of places."

I giggled quietly in response.

His hair was semi-wet and he smelt of shampoo, meaning that he'd just had a shower. I hadn't my glasses on, but I could just sense that he was looking at me. He put a hand to my cheek, slowly and gently rubbing his thumb across it. My skin tingled at his touched and I let out a contented sigh. I honestly didn't know what I'd done to deserve Daya. He was so perfect, so handsome; I could see that clearly, even without my glasses.

"Jhanvi?"

"mm?" I hummed in response. There was silence for a few brief moments. I could feel his hot, gentle breath tickle my face as he got closer. His lips locked to mine and we began the dance of lips and tongues that we'd become accustomed to. His hand moved down from my face to rest on my shoulder, then it moved again, tracing down my arm, then to my waist where it rested in the fleshy space between my t-shirt and my shorts. His next move, however, took me by surprise.

He pulled me as close as he could without it being painful as he slowly moved his hand further down, following the contours of my body until his hand rested on the outside of my thigh. My heart began to beat faster as his intentions were made clear, by moving my leg so that it rested on top of his. Breaking away to gauge my reaction we both were silent, save for the sound of our own breathing, slightly ragged.

"Yeh sab, yaha?" was the only thing that I could manage. It's not that I didn't want it, because god did I _want_ it. It was just, I could think or a million places better than the small, cramped bunk.

"Jaan, I am sorry me...behek gaya tha me, sorr..."

He never did get to finish his sentence. I silenced him by placing my mouth over his and re-instating the kiss. The reservations about the place, were dwarfed by the growing need inside of me that had lain dormant for about seven months now. We rolled slightly, so that I was on my back. His hands travelled north again, slipping under my t-shirt. I wasn't wearing a bra because it was uncomfortable to sleep with, so that was one less thing to contend with.

"Daya!"

Daya ignored Abhijeet hoping, I assumed, to pass off that he was asleep. I locked my hands behind his neck, letting my fingers entwine with his still wet hair. It became apparent that even through twolayers of clothing between us, his seven month need was a bit more obvious than mine.

"Daya, mujhe pata hai ki tum upar ho, neeche ao abhi ke abhi!"

Daya went to sit up, obviously forgetting where he was, and whacked his head off the roof of the bunk. He swore colourfully. I tried not to giggle because I could sense he was now cross at Abhijeet's interruption. Unwillingly, we untangled, and he clambered out of the bed.

"Yehi rehna thik hai," he commanded gruffly.

"Thik hai," I replied.

He stormed off and I let out a long sigh. My heart was still pounding in my chest and my breathing was irregular. There was a part of me that hoped he'd get back _real_ soon.

When he did though, it was apparent that neither of us was going to get satisfaction that night. His face was pale.  
"Niche ao."

Sliding out of the bunk, I fixed my askew clothing and followed Daya down the stairs. What I saw when I got down there was enough to make me forget about Daya almost completely. Nakul was laid out the small couch, doubled over with a look of agony on his sweat drenched face. He was shaking, yet when I rushed to him and felt his forehead he felt like he was on fire.

"What happened?" I asked to Abhijeet, who was kneeling down on the floor next to him.

"Yeh dekhogi to sab samajh jaogi," he said, unwrapping a little brown parcel. My brain went into overdrive as I gazed over the contents. A lighter, a smoke blackened spoon, some brown powdered goo in a plastic bag and a sinister looking needle glared back at me. I staggered backwards, grabbing onto Daya for support.

"My god," I managed to say through trembling fingers that covered my mouth, "Yeh kya hai, kya kiya Nakul ne?"

"Ab kya?" Daya asked, his voice rasping with panic, "Nakul ne drugs li hai, kahi over dose to nehi haina? Do you want me to call an Ambulance? Me Tarika or Vivek ko call karu?"

"Chup raho Daya," Abhijeet growled "Your freaking out is helping _no one_."

I stared at the things Abhijeet held in the little brown package, refusing to come to terms with what I was seeing.

"Yeh drugs uski nehi ho sakti, drugs nehi leta Nakul," I said defiantly. Daya squeezed my arm reassuringly, having calmed down from his little fit.

"It's okay..." he began but I simply didn't want to hear any of the rest.

"No, you don't understand, Nakul wouldn't do that shit. That's not his," I repeated, saying it more to convince myself than anyone else.

"Jhanvi yeh drugs Nakul ke pocket me se mila hai, tum hakikat ko jhutla nehi sakti, yeh sach hai!" Abhijeet gestured to the shivering, sweating wreck that was laid out on the couch.

"Food poisoning bhi to ho sakta hai na?" I tried voicing the first possible explanation that came to mind.

"Jhanvi," Daya sighed, curling his arm around my shoulder. I shrugged it off in annoyance.

"You just don't get it," I told him, laughing slightly, "He's not that stupid."

Taking us by surprise, the bus door opened and Sarunkhe appeared. He opened his mouth to greet us but stopped as his gaze fell to Nakul's somewhat pathetic form. His face immediately dropped into a frown.  
"Kya khilaya tum logo ne is bache ko?" he asked, taking control of the situation as he strode over and crouched down beside my friend. Abhijeet offered him the contents of the little brown parcel almost like he was holding a bomb.

"Heroine," he mumbled.  
"CID officers drugs kabse batne lag gaye?" Sarunkhe joked. Abhijeet rolled his eyes. Daya clenched his jaws and looked away.

"Yeh iske hai, isne khud liye he or hume uske pocket se yeh drugs mile he!" Daya said.  
"Ap log samajh kyu nehi rahe he, yeh Nakul ke nehi hai, isne kabhi drugs chua tak nehi!" I half shouted, hoping that they would finally get it into their skulls. Sarunkhe felt Nakul's forehead then sighed.

"Isne over dose nehi liya hai, so there's no need to panic."

"See I told you!" I rejoiced, with a sense of triumph. It was, however, a short lived celebration.

"Par boss, iske body temperature se to pata lagta hai ki drugs to isne liye hai," Sarunkhe informed. I blinked, my brain refusing to accept what was being implied.  
"Jhanvi ji, I am sorry to say par apke dost ne drugs liye hai, beshak uske nehi hai par kisi ne to lat lagwai hai," the Forensic expert said gently.

I had had enough. Pushing past them I knelt beside Nakul and began to roll up the sleeves of the jumper Sid had given him a few weeks ago, the same one he had worn religiously since.  
"Ap logo ko samajh kyu nehi ata Nakul kabhi bhi..."  
I trailed off as my worst fears were confirmed. The bend in Nakul's left forearm was black and blue with bruises with angry red splodges. He whimpered slightly as my fingers brushed the mark.

"Tabhi isko mood swings hote the, woh drugs ka asar tha," Daya sighed, although I didn't hear him very well because my brain had all but imploded. Nakul, my Nakul, was doing drugs. Not only doing them, but was apparently addicted.

"Please, isko bachalo please?" I asked them softly, since Sarunkhe appeared to be some sort of expert on drugs. No one knew why, but sure as hell no one wanted to ask.

"Yeh addiction sirf jisko hota wahi khatam kar sakta hai. Me iske health ke saath zyada kuch nehi kar paunga. You could try and cool down his fever if you want. Isko mood swings kabse ho rahe the?"

Daya answered, "Hume mission pe ek saath rehte ek mahina to ho chukka hai, so he could have been taking them since the start."

"That's okay, a month shouldn't have built up any lasting dependence on it. Once he gets over this he should be on the road to recovery, just make sure he stops." Sarunkhe smiled.

"Sure," I nodded, still too stunned to say much. Never, in a million years had I thought that he'd do something so utterly stupid and so dangerous. He'd always been so cautious with his body, a strict vegetarian from as long as I could remember. It wasn't him. Something had changed, someone had to be edging him on and only one person came to mind. Sid.

"Let's get him up to his bunk," I suggested, trying to keep the gradually bubbling anger under control. Daya lifted up the small shaking bundle and carried him up to the top deck of the bus.

I got a cloth from the sink and wet it, making sure that it was cold, before following Daya up. I took off Nakul's glasses and set them up on the little shelf above his bunk and draped the cloth on his hot forehead. I sat with him for god knows how long, stroking his hair until the shaking and moaning subsided and he seemed to fall into a deep sleep. Getting up from, my crouched position, I stretched out my back. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something shift. Daya was leaning up against one of the bunks, his arms folded.

"Tum abhi tak gaye nehi?" I yawned, realising how tired I was.

"Nehi, I can't leave you like this," he smiled. He walked over and embraced me, "You did good."  
I held him tight, breathing in his safe, familiar scent.

"How could he be so stupid?" I squeaked as a lump lodged in my throat and tears welled in my eyes. "I was so scared."

"I know," he whispered, planting a kiss on my forehead, "It's okay now. Hume subah tak ka intezaar karna hoga, kyuki yeh bhot zaruri hai. We'll talk to him about it then."  
I looked up and he gave me a small and reassuring smile.

"Sorry about earlier," I muttered, slightly embarrassed.

"It's okay," he chuckled, "Some other time?"

"You can count on it."

He laughed again, squeezed me, then let go.  
"Night," he said.

"Night," I managed through another yawn. Collapsing into bed, I took off my glasses and fell asleep almost instantly.

The next morning came quickly and the second I woke up I jumped out of my bunk to see if Nakul was up yet. I needed answers and I needed them soon, needed an explanation to his stupidity, although part of me knew that nothing could justify what he had been doing.

Peeking through the curtains of his bunk he was sleeping soundly, his arms in an embrace with his pillow. His brown hair, dyed so because Sid thought it looked better than his Purple streak, stuck out at all angles. Gently, I shook him awake, too eager to talk to him to wait until he woke naturally. His eyelids fluttered open and he winced in the daylight.

"God my head hurts," he groaned, "Pass me my glasses Jhanvi."

I did so. He slid them onto his face then looked at me.

"What?" he asked once no one had said anything.

"You know what Nakul," I said with a solemn voice. The noise of a curtain sliding slowly back told me that one of the best friend was watching the scene, but I didn't turn around to see which one.

"No, I don't think I do," he snapped, swinging his legs out of the bed and standing up.  
"Do you know when we stop next? I need to see Sid."

"To get your next hit?" I asked bluntly.

"Tu pagal ho gayi ha kya, kya keh rahi hai?" he frowned, spinning on the spot to face me. For a moment my heart skipped with joy because I thought that he was being truthful and that he didn't know about the drugs, that the sickness and bruised arm was just an unlikely coincidence.

"Hume pata hai ki tum drugs lete ho Nakul, aj agar tum jail me nehi ho to you Jhanvi ke wajah se, ab sach sach batao" Abhijeet said gruffly from behind me.

Thinking carefully about his response, Nakul remained silent, his eyes drifting slowly from mine, to the pair that belonged to the CID officer behind me.

"It's none of your business, me agar drugs leta hu to mujhe jail me bhej do, I don't care!" he said suddenly, turning around and climbing down the stairs to the lower level. I looked behind me to see Abhijeet roll his eyes before pulling the curtain back across his bunk.

I followed determinedly, down to the little kitchen, where Nakul stood beside the kettle, his fingers tapping feverishly on the countertop as he waited for it boil. He didn't look at me when I stood beside him.

"Nakul..." I began, my voice sympathetic, hoping he would open up to me if I appeared more compassionate. He shrugged off the hand that I set on his shoulder.

"It's none of your business," he repeated. I looked over towards the seats of the bus where Daya was sitting with his nose buried in a magazine. The expression on his face told me he wasn't reading, but eavesdropping.

"Of course it's my business if my best friend is damaging his body by being stupid and taking drugs!" I snapped.

As he turned and stared harshly at me, I could see that the person I called friend had long gone, Nakul was a stranger to me now, his mind warped by the drugs in his veins. Tears brimmed in my eyes.

"And as _my_ friend I would expect you to respect my decisions and keep your opinions to yourself when I say that it's _none_ of your business."

"Did Sid do this to you?" I asked softly.

"For your information, no. Sid has a mild heart condition that means he could die if he took drugs."

"You could die!" I yelled, as tears of frustration and anguish fell freely from my eyes.

Nakul rolled his eyes.  
"I know what I'm doing so just butt out."

"No you don't!"

"Look, _just_ because you're jealous of me and Sid doesn't mean that you have to take it out on me!"

I reeled as though he'd just knocked the wind out of me with a punch.  
"That has nothing to do with it!" I shouted, my voice an octave higher than usual as sobs threatened to rack my body.

"Of course it does. You're jealous, Jhanvi Sharma, admit it."

"Jealous of what?!"

"You just are!"

"Bas," Daya barked, raising his voice louder than I'd ever known him to so that he could be heard over me and Nakul's shouting, "I'm not sitting here in silence any more."  
He came and stood behind me, making the small kitchen even more crowded.  
"Jab accident hua tha tab hum ne Jhanvi or tumhe is bus me ane ka permission diya tha, iska matlab yeh nehi tum yeh ulti seedhi harkat karo, drugs or yeh sab, samjhe!"

"You know what, me dusre bus me shift ho jata hu! simple."

"No..." Daya immediately said, the fierceness in his voice being reduced to barely more than a whisper as he tried to backtrack the conversation, "I didn't mean that you had to go I just..."

"No really, I wouldn't want to intrude on your little love nest either. Me ap sab ko khatak raha hu me hi chala jaata hu! Or staff ke saath me to adjust ache se ho jaunga!"

With that he was gone back up the stairs. I looked round at Daya in silence. The boiling kettle turned off with a click.

"My God..." Daya muttered, running a hand through his hair, "I didn't mean to... I was trying to...help..."

"It's okay," I sniffed, tears still running down my cheeks, "I know."

"C'mere," he sighed, pulling me to him. Burying my face in his chest, I sobbed a bit more.

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked him, not really expecting him to have an answer, because there wasn't really an answer.

"It's okay, usko apne Galati ka ehsas ho jaiga, ab thore hi ghanto me hum Delhi ke ander hoge to sab thik ho jaiga, thora rest bhi milega hum sabko."

"I hope you're right."

"Come on Jhanvi, cheer up," Daya sighed, looking at me across the table where he and CID team was busy planning the next intrusion and having dinner at the same time. I snorted. Who was he to tell me to cheer up, I'd just discovered my best friend of five years was on drugs and had effectively abandoned me. Plus, the ACP didn't know about the falling out we'd had earlier and had booked us into the same room in our hotel in New Delhi. I was not looking forward to tonight. I gave Daya a bitter smirk and downed the remaining dregs of my glass of wine. He rolled his eyes and went back to his dinner. I hated taking it out on him, but I needed to vent and he was trying to be the optimist, which I currently wasn't in the mood for at all. For once, I was going to get drunk on purpose. Drunk, so that I could forget about all my problems and so that I could share a room for a night with Nakul as painlessly as possible; between my being paralytic and Nakul being as high as the clouds, I'm sure we could manage. I reached out for the fancy brand of wine that Daya had graciously paid for along with the meal, only to find he got there before me. Giving me a stern look he moved the bottle out of my reach.

"No," he said, "You know what happens jab tum yeh sab karti ho."

"I don't want to stop tonight," I snapped gruffly, "I need an escape."

"No more wine Jhanvi," he sighed, "Just stay sober, please?"

I looked over my shoulder to check that no one in the posh hotel restaurant was listening to us. The last thing we needed was Sr. Inspector Daya's and mine's face plastered over some tabloid. I kept my voice as low as possible.  
"I just found out my best friend is a druggie, and I have to share a room with him tonight. The more alcohol in my system, the less painful it will be for either of us."

"No."

Angrily, I pushed back from the table and stood up, adjusting my dress as I did so. I didn't really like wearing dresses, but the hotel restaurant had a dress code and it was the only thing that I had brought with me that was the least bit acceptable.

"Thik hai, me apne room me ja rahi hu. Maybe there's stuff in the mini bar. Failing that perhaps I can get to sleep before he gets back."

Storming off I could hear him cursing quietly behind me. I made my way out of the restaurant, following the directions written on the wall to get back to a part of the hotel I recognised. When I got to the lifts I pressed the button and waited impatiently, tapping one of my too high heeled shoes. What I was trying to make up for in my lack of height, I was going to pay for in foot problems when I was older. Checking back the way I'd come I saw Daya following me. I didn't want to talk to him now, I was still cross, so I headed for the stairs and started to climb. If he wasn't going to be sympathetic for me, then I just didn't want him around right now.

After the second flight of stairs, I cursed my decision and took my shoes off, climbing the remaining three in my bare feet. Much to my annoyance, Daya was waiting for me at the top of the stairs, failing miserably to hold back his amusement as I stumbled slightly, not drunk but not completely untouched by alcohol.

"Haso haso or haso mere zindagi par," I huffed, as I clambered up the last steps onto the floor of the hotel that had been privately rented out for them and for some of the crew.

"Yar mujhe samjhane ka ek moka to do," he chuckled, taking my arm affectionately. I shrugged him off in annoyance.

"Daya just... let me do this. If I want to wallow in alcohol fuelled self pity then just let me."

"I want you sober Jhanvi."

"We all want a lot of things in this life Sr. Inspector."

Somewhere behind me he laughed again, a low chuckled in the back of his throat.  
"You still don't get it. I _want_ you. Sober."

The intonation in his voice stopped me dead in my tracks and I turned to face him. The smile that hinted deviousness on his face turned my legs to jelly and I thought that I was going to have to grab onto the wall to stop myself from collapsing. That changed _everything_. It certainly was a way to escape for a night, and a damn good way of escaping. I cursed myself for not thinking of it first.

"Mere saath raho. Mere pas!" he whispered, "Now do you see why I didn't want you to get drunk? I want you to remember it."

He paused and brushed the back of his hand down my cheek and smiled.  
"Dekho mujhe pata hai ki tum bhot stressed ho aj, and I'll understand if you don't..."

"Why do you always assume that I don't want to?!" I asked loudly. He laughed.

"Pta nehi, me experienced nehi hu."

I wished that I'd kept my heels on because I'm sure Daya's neck would hurt after a while as he leant down to kiss me. It didn't take before I yearned for something more than our dancing mouths. Slowly, I moved my hands up underneath his t-shirt, enjoying the feel of his smooth porcelain skin beneath my fingertips.

Suddenly he put his hands on my wrists and pulled them out.  
"Room," he said breathlessly, "Now."

He kept one of his hands around my wrist as he pulled me towards the door of his room, searching for the card key in his pocket as he went. It took three attempts before the little light turned green and we crashed through the door. With a certain sense of urgency clothes began to fly. He pulled the hated dress up over my head, careful not to dislodge my glasses. I didn't see where it ended up in the end, and frankly, I didn't care.

We collapsed onto the king bed, in nothing but underwear. Daya smiled as he looked down at me.  
"Now, before we continue, are there any life altering secrets that you need to tell me?" he laughed.

I smiled up at him my heart hammering in my ribs with nerves. Despite that, I felt completely safe in his hands. I ran my hands up his arms, up to his shoulders, then locked them behind his head.  
"Just one," I said, choosing now as the best time to make the declaration that I'd made to a sleeping Daya a few months ago.  
"I love you."

It seemed like an eternity for the expression on his face to change, and much to my relief he smiled. Bringing his face close he whispered in my ear, a hot breath that sent shivers rippling across my body.  
"I love you too."

And he did; In more ways than one. It was everything I'd hoped for and more. The sweet feel of his skin on mine, the taste of his lips and the sensation of our bodies moving as one was heaven. For that night the world could have been burning to cinders around us and I don't think we would have noticed. It was the best possible way to forget about my troubles as we soared in our own little dream world until tired but contented we fell asleep in each other's arms.


	10. Chapter 10

**O.M.G THE COMMENTS! You guys have no freaking Idea what your comments mean to me! They are absolutely amazing! Ritesh7, hats off to you man! that big of a comment is made me recheck the review section to see if I am really reading my reviews or someone else's! Literally! This is amazing. The feed backs are so joyful only an author can understand! And yes to Ritesh's request! All the suggestion that are given by all my readers are just some ideas that I take to lead my story in more twisty twists! Oh twist se yaad aya! Please read, and I repeat read this chapter... again to Ritesh, picture abhi baki he mere dost! Romance to sabhi karte he! But this is something else! So Shreya isnt appearing in next few chapters, but yeah there is a huge connection to her for sure! Till then enjoy this little attack! and feed backs! no kanjusi! Keep bringing them to me! I'd love it like anything! time for me to shut up! Enjoy Enjoy *Evil grin*  
**

Waking up was slow but enjoyable. First I stretched out and wiggled my toes, just to check that I wasn't still flying. I took a deep breath in through my nose as I stretched, only to find that my movements were constricted. My glasses, by some small miracle were still on my face. I cursed myself for being so stupid, because one wrong move and I could have broken them in my sleep. I don't even have a spare pair with me. The cause of my restricted movement was that Daya had his steel strong arms around me, like a sleeping child would cuddle a teddy. His hair, that had been so meticulously spiked at dinner the night before, was now tangled and stuck out at odd angles all around the pillow under his head. His face was relaxed and carefree as he dreamed. Smiling to myself, I blew out gently, blowing a breath across his face which was only inches from mine. He twitched a little in his sleep, then went back to before. I repeated this, almost having to bite my tongue to stop from laughing as he would frown in annoyance. Eventually his eyes opened and he blinked a few times, adjusting to the light.

"Pagal!" he yawned, moving his hands to rub the sleep from his eyes. As he moved his arm I could feel our skin that had been stuck together for the last few hours, become unstuck with a slight sucker noise. It left the skin feeling cold.

Bringing his hands down from his face, my eyelighner and lipstick mark was smudged on to his face had now been smudged beyond recognition and he looked somewhat like a clown. I laughed out loud.

"What?" he asked. Looking at the black and red smudges on the back of his hands he rolled his eyes.  
"Shut up," he grumbled. Yawning again, he closed his eyes and settled down to go back to sleep.

"Are you not getting up?" I asked.

"Depends," he mumbled without opening his eyes, "What time is it?"

I twisted myself into an awkward position so that I was still in the warmth of the bed, yet I could reach my bag that was on the floor. The clock on my phone said it was twenty past ten in the morning.

"I think it's about twenty past ten."

"Itne jaldi uthne walo me se tum nehi ho, kya baat hai?"

Rolling my eyes, I sat up and stretched. Pulling one of the sheets on the hotel bed with me, I stood up and wrapped it around me, more to shield myself from the morning cold than for dignity sake. It had gotten too hot in the room the night before and we'd opened a window, a decision we were now paying for. As I walked around the bed to get to the en-suite bathroom, I tugged slowly at the duvet Daya was holding onto.

"Don't," he moaned, "I have nothing underneath this, stupid."

With an evil grin, I gave an almighty yank and it slipped out of his sleepy grasp. He immediately curled his naked body into a ball to shield himself.  
"Pagal Aurat," he whined, still with his eyes closed, as he searched for the missing duvet with one hand.

"Me nahane jarhi hu! Tumhe to nehi jana hai abhi?" I asked, hoping he would catch my real meaning.

"When you're finished," he yawned again, completely oblivious.

"Tum gussa to nehi karoge me pehle gayi to?" I tried again, hissing slightly. Cracking one eye open, he looked at me. Then he groaned as he caught on.

"Nehi, tum jao."

Frowning, I waddled into the bathroom, turned on the shower and cupped my hands under the spray. Waddling back, the huge sheet that covered my body restricting my movements, I stood over him and released the contents of my hands over him. He sat bold upright, his eyes wide with shock as his arms flailed about. Slowly, once the shock of being dry one moment, and wet the next had worn off, he turned his head to look at me.

"Jhanvi ki bacchi! Mujhpe pani fekti hai! I am so going to kill you!" he growled, narrowing his red eyes.

"Oh I really hope so," I purred in response. Daya threw off his recently reclaimed duvet and lunged at me. Giggling, partly from the thrill of being chased, but also because I'd gotten my way, I was going to get sex. I'd almost forgotten how great sex was. It had been four months before I met Daya that I'd last been with a guy, and I'd known Daya for seven months. That was nearly a full year without, unthinkable. So now that I had the opportunity, I was going to savour it as often as I could without causing physical injury. He followed me into the bathroom and into the shower, and well... you can guess the rest.

I didn't know the time, and frankly I didn't care as we lounged out on the sofa of the hotel room, flicking through local newschannel absentmindedly as we talked. We were both wearing the complimentary hotel bath robes, both of us too lazy to go looking for clothes.

"So what do you want to do now?" I asked, curling a strand of his slowly drying hair around my finger.

"Thori der baad hume kaam shuru karna hai, jiske liye hum yaha aye he," Daya murmured.

"Daya!" I protested, "Hum naye sheher aye hai, thora time mere liye bhi nikal lo! Kahi ghumne chalte he na please, bhot man kar rha hai."

"Jhanvi, tum ACP ko nehi janti, woh aj Delhi aya hua hai, agar woh nehi ata to shayad hum thori der off leke ja sakte," he groaned, "Venue spot pe jana hoga. There's the sound check, jaha bhot sare international bands ane wale he. So, day off is minimal in our case."

"I see your point, but I'm sure we can find _something_ to do. Aj ke liye bas ek hi to venue he na. Uske baad to free ho na! Please!"  
Daya turned his head and stared at me.  
"What?" I blinked.

"Me ek CID officer hu Jhanvi, koi tourist nehi jo tumhare saath ghumne jau!"

I threw my head back and laughed.  
"No, it's okay, me samajhti hu."

"Thank goodness," he sighed.

I poked him in the stomach.  
"Wese tum bore nehi hote, yeh sab case solve kar kar ke. Entertainment ke naam pe tumhe sirf Freddy or Abhijeet se kaam chalana parta hai."

"Esi baat nehi hai, ab tum bhi add ho gayi ho," he teased back.

"Well fine then, agar esi baat hai to atleast mere saath kahi ghumne chalo, for 2 hours maybe. Pleasee..." I trailed off, putting on puppy dog eyes for him. He rolled his and sighed.

"Fine, give me a few minutes. We'll go for a coffee, we haven't done that in a while."

I grinned from ear to ear. This Sr. Inspector was my boyfriend, a pretty good lover, and now I was going to have coffee. Life couldn't get much better than the way it was at that moment. Of course, like a bad taste in my mouth that I couldn't get rid of, there was still the problem of Nakul, and how I was going to solve that. Regardless of how he'd been acting on the tour, he was still my best friend and I was going to have to find some way of getting him to quit the drugs. For some reason, which I assumed to be Sid, Nakul appeared to be blind to what he was doing to his body. Heroin was a very powerful drug, one of the most powerful and addictive if my education was correct. I had seen the pictures and heard all the stories of what happened when you couldn't find the will power to quit. With all my heart I didn't want to see Nakul fall down that slippery slope of addiction. I didn't want him to become this dishevelled pathetic form that lived and breathed for his next hit, scrounging around for the money, neglecting all other aspects of his life until finally one day he would take too much and he'd be gone.

I shook my head, trying to bring myself to my senses and out of my little jaunt down pessimistic street. Maybe Nakul would wise up soon and realise what he was doing. Maybe Sid would get a clear head and realise what his boyfriend was doing to himself and stop him. Perhaps that would be my way of getting Nakul to stop. If I could convince Sid to get him to stop, then he was sure to listen. It stung a little that I knew he wouldn't listen to me any longer, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and as long as Nakul got clean, then I didn't care how I had to do it. Nodding my head once, as if to confirm my thought process to myself, I stood up and went in search of my suitcase to get dressed, having made a mental note to talk to Sid the next time I saw him.

Then I remembered my suitcase wasn't here, it was in the room I was supposed to be sharing with Nakul.

"Daya, problem he ek," I announced. He looked around at me.

"What?"

"I've nothing to wear."

"Where's your suitcase?"

"Back in Nakul's room."  
Daya groaned as he rolled his eyes to the heavens.  
"Jao or le ao waha se?"

I gestured to the robe that I was wearing.  
"I'm not going out in this!"

"Why not? The whole floor is taken up by us and he's just down the hall."

"Why won't you do it then?" I asked stubbornly.

"Dekho drama queen, tumhe Nakul se kabhi na kabhi to samna kar na hi hai, isliye tum jao or le ao apna suit case."

I grunted in annoyance, lifting the card key I'd been given and stormed out of the room. My bare feet felt cold on the carpet as I walked down to the other end of the hallway, cross because I knew Daya was right, but I really didn't want to see Nakul. I was afraid that he would yell at me again.

For politeness sake, I knocked on the door before using my key. I didn't want to just walk in, in case Sid was there and they didn't want to be disturbed. There was no immediate cry of protest, so I walked in. Nakul was still in bed, and looked to be asleep. I breathed out a sigh of relief that I wouldn't have to talk to him, not yet. My suitcase was untouched, sitting on the second of the two beds in the room. I could also hear the shower running in the bathroom, which suggested that he wasn't alone. I lifted my suitcase, forgetting how heavy it was and dropped it. It made a loud thud as it fell back onto the floor. Wincing I glanced up at Nakul's sleeping figure, no longer sleeping as his brown eyes looked my direction.

"Jhanvi?" he asked, sitting up and running his hand across the bedside table until he found his glasses and put them on his face.

"Hey," I said, not really sure what else I could say. He continued to look at me strangely, I guessed that he was still half asleep and trying to work out if he was dreaming or not. I pointed to my suitcase.  
"I came to get this," I mumbled, feeling a little uncomfortable in his presence. In the history of our friendship, we'd never 'fallen out' as such. So I didn't really know how to deal with the situation.

"Oh... sure," he replied, looking as though he was as uncomfortable as I felt. There was another few moments of unbearable atmosphere between us, when he spoke again.  
"I'm sorry I shouted at you yesterday I was in... a weird mood."

He meant that he hadn't had a hit in a while, but I nodded in understanding, accepting his apology anyway. A small smirk passed over his lips as he gave me the once over.  
"We all had fun last night then?"

More than anything in the world I wanted to rush over and sit on the bed beside him to gush, to tell him everything with no detail spared, whether he wanted to hear it or not. But there was something at the back of my mind that was telling me this wasn't Christian, if he wasn't being a grumpy bitch, then he'd had a hit, and if he'd had a hit, he wasn't the same person. Just then the bathroom door opened and I glanced over to Sid who padded out, a towel wrapped around his skinny waist, his messy wet black hair plastered over his face. He looked at me, then at Nakul then back to me. The uneasy feeling returned.

"Daya or me ghumne jar he hai, isliye I need the suitcase," I said, extending the handle of the case so that I could roll it back to Daya's room, "So I better go."

"Sure," Nakul said, "And that thing... that we were going to talk about?" he asked raising his eyebrows in a manner that made it impossible not to smile back at me, "Another time yeah?"

"Yeah," I replied, not wanting to shoot down his peacemaking offer, "Soon."

I took one last look back at Sid. He wasn't quite glaring at me, but he wasn't exactly running over to hug me either. I'd talk to him about Nakul and the drugs another time, to find out what he thought about it, and to beg him to get Nakul to stop. I took my case and left, leaving them in peace, as I closed the door behind me.

Daya looked like a black turtle. A black high necked jumper, black jeans, a black hat, and big dark sunglasses, I couldn't help but laugh.

"Bouncer ki naukri lag gayi kya kisi night club me?" I managed through my giggles.

"Grow up," he muttered, turning his nose up at me.

I got dressed, and we were just about to leave the hotel room when Daya's blackberry began to sing. He flicked it open and read the message.  
"Abhijeet ne bulaya hai," he said with a frown as he put the phone back in his pocket.  
"I hope koi case se related na ho bas." I pursed my lips. Can I ever get a right time with Daya? Never I guess.

I lifted a hair tie from the bedside table and put my hair up as we walked down the corridor to Abhijeet's room. I wasn't sure if it was mine or Daya's but I needed to get my hair out of the way. I'd let it dry naturally and it had gone frizzy and I'd left my strengtheners on the bus in one of my other cases. Daya knocked on the door and it opened no more than a few seconds later. I knew almost immediately that something was wrong, because Abhijeet had that look in his eye again. A look that I'd seen before but hoped I'd never see again. He looked first to Daya then to me.

"You," he growled angrily, "Mujhe tumse baat karni hai."

I knew then, that what whatever I was supposed to have done, it wasn't good.

I looked around at Daya, to check his face, to see if this was some kind of joke that they were playing on me. But it wasn't the case; Daya's face was furrowed into a frown as he shot a confused glare at his best friend. My heart began to beat a little faster than usual as my brain went into overdrive trying to think of a possible explanation to Abhijeet's apparent hatred. I thought that he'd finally gotten over that, so what could have possibly triggered it again?

As I gingerly stepped into Abhijeet's room Daya followed closely, almost protectively behind me. Pankaj and Kavin were, strangely enough, also in the room. Sachin was also present with a stone face. Freddy was sitting with his arms folded and his usually cuddly, teddy-like manner was gone and all I saw in his eyes was coldness. Purvi and Tarika who would smile sincerely at me, refused to look at me. And there was another person present in the room who I didn't recognise quite immediately. The person can easily be counted as a fifty year old man. He was glaring at as he paced around the room. I didn't need any further confirmation that this was no joke they were playing on me. They were all bitterly angry with me yet I could see no reason why. What could I have possibly done to offend them so much?

"Itna confuse mat ho," Tarika spat, "Here, let me refresh your memory." Abhijeet huffed slightly. As if he is ashamed to tell something to me.

Tarika walked upto me and thrust a bundle of strangely familiar paper roughly into my hands. I flicked through, still utterly confused. Until that is, I finally found the front cover. The bottom of my chest seemed to fall away from the rest, leaving me feeling numb and hollow as I read the name.

_GlamGoss_

Almost afraid of what I would find I glanced over the various subheading. That's when my heart stopped beating entirely. I only needed to see the one.

_Exposed. Sr. Inspector Daya; The truth about CID's Saint._

Slowly, I raised my eyes to look at Tarika.

"Kya hua?" she hissed, "Chok gayi, aree tum to yehi kam karti thi na Jhanvi?"

"Tarika, ek minute meri baat suno," Daya shouted harshly, "Jhanvi ko saat mahine ho chuke he woh magazine chore hue, kya sabut hai ki…"

Abhijeet immediately rushed to me and snapped the magazine out of my hand and began to flick angrily through the pages. Finally, when he seemed to find what he was looking for, he cleared his voice and began to read aloud.  
_  
"We all know that ACP Pradyuman from the mighty high CID likes to portray himself and his as a pilgrim of saints, and there has been no shortage of medals and fans who like to think they've proof of their heroics if this. However, his most dearly officer, the infamously androgynous Senior Inspector Daya seemed to be the polar opposite, portraying an almost virgin-like attitude. GlamGoss decided to test this theory by sending one of our reporters undercover on a fun day out with the team… this is what happened:" _

As he continued I gradually sank down onto the edge of one of the beds, my legs unable to support me. The article was about me, and about the day I'd spent with the team seven months ago, accompanied by Nakul. The article, had of course been sensationalised, portraying Daya as a serial flirt, desperately trying every move in the book and continuously making offers of spending the night with him in his hotel room.

Everyone in the room knew that this was lies. Any moves that had been made were by me and me alone, with only the occasional and undeniably subtle hint from Daya. Yet this didn't matter one little bit, because what was printed in ink, is what everyone would read and believe to be true. It was mortifying and there was a very significant part of me that wanted to crawl away under a rock and stay there for the rest of my days just so I wouldn't have to look anyone in the eye ever again.

"...the reporter in question will remain nameless." Abhijeet finished, then added angrily as he hurled the pathetic remnants of a battered magazine at Daya.  
"Or Daya tu is larki ke liye mujhe or Tarika ko jhutla rha hai, is larki ke liye!"

Daya looked as though he was about to pass out. Any colour in his pale face had completely deserted him, for the first time making him look fragile, like a gust of wind would shatter him into a million porcelain pieces. Slowly, he opened up at the article, his hands trembling.

"Tumne...woh tasveere phar diya tha na," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper as he broke the silence I feared would have lasted forever.

"I did!" I cried defensively as my eyes stung with the beginnings of tears.

"Jhoot," Abhijeet snorted, folding his arms. The elderly man looked at Abhijeet and shook his head, as if to calm him down.

I turned to Daya. His eyes were distant almost vacant.  
"Please," I begged, "Daya yeh mene nehi kiya! I didn't know about this!"

"Kya acting he Jhanvi, kal tak yeh baat sirf hum charo ko pata hi, or aj tumhari wajah se pure duniya ko pata chal gayi. ACP sir ko bhi!" Abhijeet growled gesturing to the elderly man was glaring at me, the harshness in his voice making me flinch. He had been cross at me before, but this was on a whole new level. I didn't even know I was crying until I felt the salty tears run down my cheeks, all the way to my neck before I mopped them up with my sleeve.

"Kyu kiya tumne esa, Jhanvi?" The older man asked.  
"Sir, me sach kehti hu, mene kuch nehi kiya! Ap yakeen kijiye! Me kyu karungi! Kya milega mujhe Daya or ap sab ko badnaam kar ke?" I weeped.  
"Or Nakul?"Daya asked.

"No! He couldn't... he wouldn't... he..." I began, my ears deaf to the hard truth of it.

"Daya, is Nakul ko pakarte he, us se to koi sach nikal hi ayega."

"Nehi, please Nakul ne kuch nehi kiya woh innocent hai..." I began, hiccupping from the tears that had now turned into sobs, "Daya us din Sanjay ko dekha tha na tumne, you saw what happened that day. You know that I'd never go back to him, and you know I'd never betray you."

"Us din usne tumhare saath battameezi ki thi, us Sanjay ne. To fir tumne uspe FIR charge kyu nehi kiya?" Abhijeet asked with venom, "Huh? If he was going to do something as awful as you said he was, why didn't you report him to the police?"  
ACP sighed and walked out of the room. As if to give them the permission to torture me more.  
"I didn't want any more trouble. I just wanted to forget about it."

"Kamal ka actress ho tum Jhanvi, us din bhi kya khub acting kiya tumne."

"I'm not acting!" I almost screamed in response. My head was throbbing and my eyes were sore, and probably raw red.

"Bas Abhijeet, Bas," Daya muttered, but his best friend was in full rampage mode and wouldn't be stopped easily.

"Tumne kaha tumhe paise chahiye na. Isse acha mouka kya ho sakta hai, humare hi saath rehke is mission me, humpe nazar rakhke yeh sab jhoot bolne ki. Or kya chahiye? You and him, and probably Nakul too you've been planning this since the start! Sach keh raha hu na me! Badzaat aurat!"

"Abhijeet!" Daya yelled. The room went deathly quiet, except for the breathing of two angry senior Officers.  
Daya spoke first.

"Jhanvi, go back to the room."

"Daya, Tum ab bhi isko bacha rhe ho, tumhe yakeen nehi hota ki kis tarah se yeh tumhe gumrah kar rhi hai?"

"Main kyu gumrah karungi Daya ko, me Daya se pyaar karti hu," I blubbered pathetically, my voice hoarse and my body trembling so much that I thought I was going to be shaken apart at any moment. My glasses had steamed up so that I couldn't see out of them. I was partly glad, so that I wouldn't have to face any of the angry or disappointed stares.

"Jhanvi. Apne room me jao." Daya said sternly. I didn't need to be told a third time. Stumbling, I made my way to the door, out into the hall. I only got half way up to Daya's room before I collapsed against the wall and sobbed into my hands.

I don't know how long I was there for before Daya found me.

"Come on," he sighed sadly, picking me up off the floor, "Tumhe ghar bhej raha hu me, bhot ho gaya ab."

"What?" I spluttered, staggering slightly.

"I just... I don't want you and Abhijeet around each other right now. He's really angry and I just think it would be easier for us to get on with the tour if you're not here. I'm sorry."

"But I didn't do anything Daya, mene kuch nehi kiya!"

"It's okay," he said, offering a weak but reassuring smile, "You start packing and I'll phone Vivek to arrange a flight back to Mumbai as soon as possible. Sab thik ho jaiga."

"Abhijeet or mere beech sab thik hote hote 6 mahine lag gaye," I muttered bitterly.

Daya said nothing, and I let out a trembling sigh, trying to compose myself. The next few hours were just a blur to me. Packing clothes while Daya came back and forth from the room, fussing and organising.

"What about Nakul?" I asked eventually, having only remembered him now. The part of my brain that he was in had shut down. I didn't want to think about him, because thinking about him would mean that I had to face up to the cold harsh truth of it. I knew myself that I hadn't been involved in the article. I doubted highly that Abhijeet and Daya would have written the interview, which would have just been stupid. It left now only Nakul. The thought of him selling me out like that was unbearable, so I simply pushed it to the back of my mind and pretended the problem wasn't there.

"Me usse baadme baat karunga, pehle tumhe ghar pocha du safely," he replied.

Daya escorted me to the airport. The taxi ride was quiet and I didn't want to disturb him, I'm sure he was horrified by the fact that it was now public. I'm sure there had been more than a few lies in the tabloids regarding them, but I don't think any of them had ever hurt him so deeply before. I felt partly responsible because, if I had never agreed to do the interview in the first place, none of it would have happened, leaving nothing to come back to haunt him.

But when I looked back at the months of friendship, and the most recent week or two that we'd become much closer, I realised that I wouldn't change a thing. In its own sordid way, the interview, and near seduction had brought me close to Daya, and no amount of embarrassing articles would make me want to change that.

As we rode in silence, I stole a glance at him, his eyes hidden behind his massive sunglasses. No matter what had happened, I was glad that he was there with me, and that he believed me, even if his best friends and the team didn't. I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. It took him a moment to register but he squeezed back and let it go again, offering a little smile.

We got to the airport in record quick time. Everything happened so fast. I realised that I should have gone to Nakul myself, but I couldn't turn back now. My flight was in an hour and I was already late to check in my baggage. Daya had reassured me that my other stuff that I'd left on the bus would be sent to my parent's house, where he knew I was staying.

"Your flight's in an hour, and the check in desk closes in a few minutes, jaldi karo ab," he instructed, lifting my case from the back of the taxi as I paid the driver with the money Daya had handed me.

He even carried the case for me as we made our way through the beautiful IGI airport. I put my arm through his as we walked, enjoying the comforting effect of his presence.  
"Thank you for believing me," I murmured softly.

"Tumhara Check in counter kaha he?" he asked, sounding as though he was frowning behind his glasses as he scanned the row of counters, divided up by different airline names.  
He spotted it before me and trotted off after it, I followed him, almost having to jog to keep up with his lengty legs.  
"ID proof?"

"Here," I said, flashing it to him to prove that I had it. I may have been forgetful and a little hopeless at times, but I was usually quite good at remembering the most important things.

I checked in with little trouble, but the attendant seemed to be quite annoyed that I was doing so, so near to the closing of the gate.

"I just wanted to thank you for believing me," I said again, slightly louder than the last time because he didn't hear me.

"Boarding card he na tumhare pas, check kar lo gate number to likha he na?" he asked, his frown back as he looked from my ticket, up to the electronic departures board, then back down at my card.  
"Ah, gate ten. If I remember it's quite a walk to the departures lounge, and it already says that you have to go through to it. Jaldi jaldi jao."

"Daya relax," I assured him, "The flight doesn't leave for another forty minutes, we've plenty of time."

He insisted. So we walked quickly. He knew the airport because he'd been there a few times before.  
His fussiness was beginning to annoy me. I'd never seen him so organised before, but I brushed it aside, I knew that the article was bound to be the thing on his mind, and I'd just have to make allowances for a while. I still hadn't thanked him properly for earlier, for standing up for me and for accepting my side of the story without consequence. I stopped him, and made him face me so there was no chance that he couldn't hear me.

"Thank you for earlier," I said, looking into his eyes through the sunglasses, "It meant a lot to me that you're on my side in this."

"We've got to keep moving, Jhanvi bhot bara airport hai plane miss ho jai..."

Acting completely out of character, I stood on my tip toes and leant in to kiss him. Confusing was reigning as I wondered why he seemed not to want to listen to me thank him. I wanted to feel him, I needed to feel him. His arms around me and his lips on mine, that was all that I needed to salvage some scrap of comfort and love from that day of hell.

It was when he backed away that it hit home, hard.

"Jhanvi... kya kar kya rahi ho tum..."

"Tumhe mujhpe trust nehi hai na?" I asked him bluntly as my already sore and puffy eyes began to well up once more.

"Hum late ho rah hai Jhanvi... flight miss ho jaigi..." he muttered, turning to go again.

"Don't give me that crap! I can see the fucking departure lounge from here it'll only take thirty seconds!"

"Keep your voice down," he whispered urgently.

"Tell me you believe me," I demanded as, once again, I began to cry.

"I...Jhanvi, I..." he took in a deep breath then let it out again.  
"I don't know what to believe."

"Believe me!" I urged, "I'm telling the truth!"

"It doesn't matter what I believe. Abhijeet or tum... don't make me choose between you and him again. I can't take it. Please, shayad yeh hi thik rahe."

"Easier?" I breathed, shaking slightly, "You're... you don't want to see me again do you?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his glasses able to hide his eyes, but not the two small rivers that ran down from under them.

The world seemed to stop in that instant, and I felt nothing. Nothing but cold and emptiness as if my soul had been ripped from my very body and all that was left was a shell.

I opened my mouth, trying to form the words from my dry mouth.  
"You... weren't going to tell me either."

"Me kya batau...me dar gaya hu Jhanvi, life me pehli baar mere wajah se ACP sir ko sharmindgi hone lagi hai.. Life me pehli baar I am so scared.. I am scared."

It took a moment for everything to sink in, and I had to stare at my shoes to compose myself, to try and see his reasoning, to try and come up with a better solution. A solution that didn't mean he had to leave. As I looked up, the last little part of my heart that remained un-shattered, conformed and broke too as I realised he was gone.

Looking over my shoulder, back the way we'd come, I couldn't see him. All around I whirled but it was as if he'd melted into the air itself.

"Daya?" I tried to call out, but it just caught in my throat and came out like a pitiful squeak. I just stood there, like a hollow statue. I probably would have stayed there for hours, had someone not stopped to ask me if I was okay.

"Me thik hu," I replied, uttering possibly one of the most obvious lies in my life. Unsurely, the woman moved on. She had snapped me out of my daze, and I remembered about my flight. Somehow I managed to get onto my flight, and through airport, until I arrived on my front doorstep, to fall sobbing into my confused mother's arms.


	11. Chapter 11

**Words escape me. I can't thank you all enough for all the beautiful feedbacks and predictions... haha some of them are right on dot and they are amazing! Everyone one of you is the reason why I am writing this story in such a mad speed! right now I am just ending the malicious part of the story... I dont like depressing sight! Gahh just read the chapter and figure! And thanks again for loving this story! I could never feel this story is really as good as the other fanfic! Trust me that's what I felt when I first thought of it! 'nyways...Enjoy! And review! Thanks once again! **

The next few days blended into one monotonous grey blur. There was a permanent Jhanvi imprint in my bed because I would only ever leave it for an hour at a time, to have a shower, or eat something to ease huger pains whenever they manifested themselves. However nothing could ease the dull aching pain in my chest where my heart had once been. My best friend had betrayed me, played me for a sucker and then sold me out. Because of that, Daya had left me. It was a double edged sword that cut me deep. I tried everything to keep my mind busy, to forget it and escape from myself for a few hours, but it never worked.

Reading was impossible because it would only be five or ten minutes before I'd realise that I'd been reading the same paragraph over and over. Listening to music was also useless. I would find hidden meanings in the lyrics, apply them to me and end up feeling worse than I did before I started. My mother tried her best, maintaining that retail therapy was the best way to mend a broken heart. Somehow, I didn't think that spending all the money in the world would buy enough glue to mend my heart. Time was my only cure.

Maybe I was being melodramatic, maybe I was exaggerating. Did other people lose their best friend and their love in the same day? Did they go on holding their head up high and pretend that nothing had gone wrong? I didn't know about other people but I was Jhanvi Sharma, and Jhanvi wanted to brood.

My dad and brothers were also being very considerate. Mum must have threatened them with her wrath. Usually they thought that annoying Jhanvi and trying to make her laugh was the best way to cheer her up. In the past it worked, but it would only make things worse now.

It was the third or fourth, or perhaps even fifth day after I'd arrived home, I didn't keep track, the days all blended into one. Mum had come into my room to set some laundry out to dry on my balcony. I had my back to her, pretending to be asleep again. It wasn't difficult. It seemed that all I did was sleep. She stopped, and I could hear her sigh, frustrated that as a mother, she could do absolutely nothing. I'm sure it broke her heart to see me the way I was, but I couldn't change a thing. Then the bed sagged slightly under her weight as she sat down on the edge. Placing a hand on my shoulder she began to talk.

"Jhanvi?"  
I ignored her. She'd tried talking to me about it and every time ended the same, with me choking on my tears and leaving the room before she'd even gotten to the point.  
"Tu so nehi rahi hai, mujhe pata hai."

To keep up the charade further was pointless, so I pushed myself up into a sitting position and grabbed my glasses from the bedside table.  
"Kya hua?" I asked, sounding harsher than I intended. All she was trying to do was help.

Mum reached over and lifted my phone and set it in my hands.  
"Phone karo use, baat karke sab thik karo, yeh sirf tumhe karna hai or kisi ko nehi..."

"Ma, Daya ne mujhe saaf saaf keh diya tha ki woh mujhse ab kabhi baat nehi karna chahta to me kya karu," I snapped grumpily.

"Me Daya ki baat nehi kar rhi hu, Nakul ko call kar. Nakul tera bhai jesa hai or mera bhi bete jaisa hai. Woh bhi musibat me hai mujhe pata hai, drugs nehi le sakta mera bacha kabhi. Or tum dono ek saath rahoge tabhi sab thik ho jaiga, tum dono humesha saath rehte ho. Tum dono ki jori uske tarah hai...um..." she paused as she searched for an appropriate simile, "Ha, ek ipod or earphone ke tarah hai. Ek gayab ho to dusra bhi kaam karna band kar deta hai. Isliye, tu call kar or use sab kuch bata, mere liye atleast call kar use."

Giving me a sympathetic smile, she patted my leg before getting up and leaving. I stared down at the mobile in my hands. I didn't want to call him. There was no question about it, it had to be him. Besides, he hadn't called me yet to protest his innocence, yet another finger that pointed the blame to him. Yet, I still found myself scrolling down through my phonebook, trying to find his name. I needed to know why. Why he had disregarded our whole friendship, why he had betrayed me. My finger hovered over the call button, when another name caught my eye. Tanisha.

A guilty wave washed over me when I realised that I hadn't talked to her since the accident, I hadn't called to see how she or the baby was doing. Feeling like a horrible person for being so inconsiderate, I clicked her name and rang her.

She was thrilled to hear from me and couldn't have been more eager to see me. The baby was still in hospital because she'd been severely premature, but seemed to be making good progress. Tanisha wouldn't leave her side, so I arranged to go in to see her and the baby the next day.

After four different busses I managed to find my way to the hospital, and regained my hate of public transport. Tanisha met me in the lobby.

"Sorry Tanisha Di, call nehi kar payi," I apologised as we walked towards the special care unit.

"Sorry mat bol Jhanvi, mission pe bhi to jana zaruri tha na, time nikalna impossible hai," she replied kindly, "CID log jab mission pe bhejte he to kisi ke pas saas tak lene ke liye time nehi hota. Bhot kaam hota hai or risk bhi."

"You have no idea," I sighed.

She laughed then gestured down the hall we were walking.  
"Yeh unit premature baby or Mother ke liye hai. Yaha sir premature delivery wale rehte he jese ki main. Wese yeh bhot acha hua, nehi to me apne bache ke bina ek pal bhi nehi ji pati sach keh rhi hu."

As she opened the door and I could see the little hospital cot over to the side of the room with tubes everywhere. When I saw her, I just melted. I love children and the sight of Tanisha's baby reduced me to jelly.

"Kitni pyaari hai apki baby," I cooed. She was also so tiny, and it was a bit heartbreaking to see her connected to all the tubes and monitors.  
"Naam kya rakha hai apne iska."

"Hum soch rhe hai Twinkle rakhu, T for Tanisha or T for Twinkle," she said, reaching over and stroking her little head, "Kesa hai yeh naam?"

"Its perfect," I replied, barely able to form proper sentences in my head. I just wanted to pick her up and cuddle her, but knew that she was far too fragile for that. I sighed, then looked to Tanisha and asked, "Ap abhi kesi ho Di?"

"Bhagwan ke daya se thik hu. Pata nehi tha woh accident ese achanak kese hua; daravna sapna tha ek dam. Tum batao? Dr. Sarunkhe ne to kaha tha ki sab thik hai, kisi ko zyada chot nehi ayi, me bhot khush hu ke sab thik thak bach gaye."

"Us accident ke baad to na jane kese kese khwab ane lage mujhe," I laughed, "Par wese sab thik hai."

Tanisha nodded, then looked out the window, seeming somewhat distant. I leaned over the cot and put my little finger into Emma's hand, cooing to her, even though she was asleep and I looked like an idiot.

"Jhanvi?" Tanisha said suddenly. I looked up. "Mujhe...pata hai tere or Daya Sir... ke saath kya hua. Dr. Sarunkhe ne kal mujhe phone karke sab bataya."

My heart skipped a little. How much did she know? Did she, like everyone else hold me responsible for the article? I gulped down the lump in my throat.

"Dekho Tanisha Di..." I started hesitantly, "Woh article. Sab jhoot hai, ap agar bhagwan ko mante ho to me bhi unhe manti hu. Or unki kasam khake kehti hu...Mene woh sab nehi likhwaya! Pata nehi kyu mujhe in sab me phasaya ja rha hai!"

"Pata hai mujhe, tune kuch nehi kiya."

Frowning, I opened my mouth to ask how she knew when the door opened behind me. Whirling my head to see who it was, my eyes went wide and my heart gave a lurch when I saw who had just walked in.

"Jhanvi, gussa mat ho please," Tanisha said hurriedly, "Mene hi kaha tha ise tu yaha arhi ha. Use tujhe ek zaruri baat kehni hai, keh lene de use."

"Ab? ab kya reh gaya kehne ko Di?" I snapped, standing up and getting ready to leave.

"Jhanvi, please," Nakul begged grabbing my wrist, "Ek baar meri baat sunle fir chali ja tu me kuch nehi kahunga."

He was a mess. His usually styled and well kept hair was all over the place, like he hadn't brushed it for days. There were heavy purple bags under his eyes and he looked as though he'd been wearing the same clothes for the last few days. His skin also looked sickly pale. What had happened to him that he'd be in such a state? He took my silence as his answer, and began to talk.

"Maine woh article nehi publish kiya Jhanvi, sach keh raha hu," he began, "You've got to know that I'd never do that to you!"

"Then who else could have done it? Or kon janta hai is interview ke bare me? Daya or Abhijeet to nehi karenge yeh na?" I hissed, trying to keep my voice low and as calm as possible for little Twinkle's sake. Babies could feel tension in the air, and I didn't want her to wake up and start crying.

Nakul swallowed hard and for what must have been the first time in my life, I saw tears well in his eyes. It stunned me. Nakul never cried, and if he did, then he didn't ever do it in front of me. He said jokingly to me one time that it was the last scrap of his masculinity refusing to budge.

"Sid," he croaked, "It was Sid."

I frowned. How could it have been Sid, he didn't know about any of it.  
"But..." I began.

"I told him about it. I'm so sorry I didn't think he'd do anything. He just asked one night how you and Daya met and I told him everything you told me. I'm sorry, me nashe me bhot kuch keh gaya, I was high at the time and I don't remember much about it."

"So what about the pictures? You told me you'd deleted them!"

Nakul sniffed, and I could see one tear escape his eye. A niggling voice told me at the back that they were crocodile tears, while another told me to use common sense. If he couldn't cry normally, then he would hardly be able to fake tears.

"I... I kept them. I thought that we... I don't know, could look back on them in a few years and laugh. I showed them to him, I didn't see the harm. He must have downloaded a copy for himself. I'm so sorry Jhanvi, agar mujhe pata hota ki woh insab ka galat istemal karta to..."

"So why did Sid do it?" I asked, folding my arms.

"Do you... do you remember that I said he wanted to be a journalist? He still does. Uske Chacha humare ex boss Sanjay hai. He was sent on the tour to get a story, your story, the story he never got. And I lied about him not taking drugs. He sold the story to his uncle to pay for the heroin."

The empty cold feeling of shock had returned. Everything seemed to be falling into place like a sick and twisted jigsaw puzzle.

"Sanjay uska Chacha hai?" I repeated.

"Well he's hardly likely to be his son. No-one outside a mental institution would fuck a man like Sanjay."

A snigger escaped my mouth before I could catch it, and I had to fight the corners of my mouth to stop myself from smiling. I couldn't allow myself to forgive so quickly.

I sighed, the anger having left my body, but the sadness still remained.  
"How do I know you're telling the truth? What's to say that you're not lying to me again?"

"Why would I come back if I was lying?" he answered, "Why else would I have left Sid?"

He was right. He didn't leave Sid's side for a month solid, so it made sense that they could only be parted over something as drastically as this.

"He used me," he sniffed, as more tears made their presence known on his cheeks, "He told me he loved me but he was just using me."

And that's when my barrier cracked and I went over to hug him. I'd never seen him look so fragile and I knew that he'd been telling the truth. My best friend was back, back where he belonged, and he hadn't betrayed me. Not purposefully.

"I'm so sorry," he sobbed into my shoulder, "It's all my fault. If I'd know, I'd have tried to stop him but I didn't know and I didn't call because I knew you wouldn't listen over the phone and... and..."  
He couldn't go on anymore he was shaking so much. He felt hot through his clothes, like he was suffering a fever. I released him and put a hand to his forehead. He was burning up.

"How long has it been since your last hit?" I asked, my voice filled with concern.

"...a while," he mumbled, attempting a smile, "But I don't want another one. Ever. Look what it made me do."

"Let's get you home," I groaned. Then, I turned to Tanisha. "Thank you Di."

"Thank you mat bolo, Nakul tumhare bhai jesa hai. Acha hua tumne ise maaf kar diya! Or jab bhi time mile mujhe phone kardena thik hai?"

"Wouldn't miss it Di," I smiled, sighing in relief as a weight was lifted from my shoulders. The whole ordeal almost made me forget about Daya.

Almost.

It took Christian the better part of a week to get over his withdrawal. He had a fever, and he would take shaking fits every so often, complaining about being too cold, then too hot the next minute. Anything he ate came back up again unpleasantly and he looked as though he would break if you hugged him too tightly. Between mom and myself, we nursed him back to health. Mom took the opportunity to beat the fear of drugs into my younger brothers, using Nakul as an example why it was such an unpleasant road to go down. It turned out that he'd used all the money from the tour to bus his way back from Delhi to Mumbai. That explained his appearance at the hospital, because the journey had taken him a whole two days to complete, and he'd only brought his camera, his laptop and whatever else he could fit into his backpack. The rest of his stuff was parcelled back with mine a few days after.

It was heartbreaking sorting through all my clothes again. Each piece held a memory, like the pyjamas that I'd worn the night I'd had the bad dream and shared Daya's bed. I'd never given Abhijeet back his hoodie from the night of the crash simply because he never asked for it back and I liked it. The crumpled dress from the night before I'd been unceremoniously kicked off tour held the most painful memory and it got thrown into the bin. I didn't care that it had cost the earth, there was no way that I could ever look at it again, let alone wear it.

After two weeks, things were starting to take shape again. The iPod had its earphones again. I still had my moments, like when I watched a particular movie and there was a romantic scene, I would feel my heart deflate again. It would take time, but I knew that I would eventually get better, and that Daya would become nothing but a memory. I mostly avoided watching the news channels again, since the heroes are always on the headlines. I never wanted to see them, neither on TV.

The memories, however, refused to die without a fight as I found out one particularly stormy night. In was December and the weather had taken a turn for the worst, with bitterly cold rain and wind that shook the windows until I was sure they'd come crashing down into the room. Nakul and I were huddled under a blanket watching a movie on my laptop, since the power cables had been blown down. The rain beat a relentless patter on the windows and there was a rumbled of thunder in the distance. It probably wasn't the best idea to watch a horror movie that night, but Nakul had convinced me. The doorbell made us both scream. Laughing at my own stupidity I picked up a torch to see my way to the door. I half expected to open the door to see some crazed axe murderer ready to jump on me and hack me to pieces like in the movie. However, it was much worse than that.

A CID officer was _much_ worse than an axe murderer.

In a matter of seconds my mood plummeted again. I'd hoped never to see him again, or his best friend for that matter. Why couldn't they just let me get on with my life? Why did they have to torment me with their presence?

"Kon he Jhanvi?" my mother called from the kitchen where she was attempting to make dinner on a Stove, since our usual cooker was electric, and the power had still to come back on.

"Koi nehi hai ma," I said, venom spilling from my tongue.

"Ouch, itna gussa?" the visitor replied.

"Kyu aye ho yaha Abhijeet?" I sighed, leaning against the wall with my arms folded, "Meri zindagi pehle se bhot kharab ho chukka hai tum sabke wajah se, ab or kya chahiye tumhe?"

"Me sab samjhaunga...pehle me andar to ajau?" he asked, lifting up his arms to show me the damage that the rain had done to his clothing. The expensive black woollen long coat had stuck to his body like glue, and there was water dripping off the brim of his baseball cap. He looked pathetic, but given our past it was hard to muster up some sympathy for him.  
"Please?" he begged, "Bahar bhot barish ho rahi hai... Thand bhot hai yar... I am all wet!"

Somewhere on the landing at the top of the stairs, hysterical laughing burst from Nakul who had just made his eavesdropping known.

"Koi or word bolta to shayad better hota..," the officer winced. Failing to see the funny side, I stood defiant.  
"Yar... please? It's important."

He looked at me with those eyes and for a split second, the drowned rat on my doorstep was Daya, and, despite everything, my defences crumbled. Stepping aside I let him in.

"It better be. Take your shoes off," I instructed, "And don't touch anything. Don't move."

"Do you want me to stop breathing too?" he asked as I bounded up the stairs two at a time. Pausing, I turned and flashed him the most deliberately false smile possible.

"If you don't mind."

"Ap sochna bhi band kardo," added Nakul, "Kyuki agar pehle socha hota to is tarah ane ki zarurat nehi hoti."

"Sach me pathetic condition me main khara hu yaha pe! Is this abuse necessary?!" Abhijeet whinged loud enough for me to hear as I disappeared into the bathroom to retrieve a towel.

"Yes," Nakul and I answered simultaneously.

I was gone no more than thirty seconds, but when I returned my entire family had swooped down on him like vultures around a corpse. Nakul was enjoying the show from his vantage point at the top of the stairs.

"This is so cool, mere friends yakeen nehi kar sakte ki ap humare ghar pe aye ho," my younger brother gawped.

"Yehi hai kya woh jiske wajah se Jhanvi itna ro rahi thi do mahino se?" my dad asked my mum in his serious voice.

"Ap chup raho," mum scolded, in her 'don't you dare interfere' tone, before adding, "Yeh Daya nehi hai, yeh uska ka dost hai."

"Meri na girlfriend ap sab ki bhot bari fan hai," said my older brother.

"Er... waah beta...yeh to bhot achi baat hai haina?" Abhijeet tried. I'd stopped to watch with Nakul on the stairs, and I could feel Abhijeet's awkwardness even from where he stood at the far end of the hall.

"_No_ yeh achi baat nehi hai," the older of my two brothers snapped, "Woh har time ap logo ke bare me baat karti rehti he, me jealous ho gaya hu, had hai."

"Sir me apki photo le sakta hu?" younger brother asked. Even the dog had joined in and started barking at the intruder.

Even in the darkness of the power cut I could see Abhijeet give me a pleading look to rescue him. It was tempting to let him suffer at the hands of my family. I gave in again and went reluctantly to his aid.

"Okay, enough," I shooed them, "Ab jao sabke sab, bye bye."

Mum led dad away as my older brother followed with the dog. She had to come back to drag my younger brother off by the neck of his t-shirt, while he insisted the whole way into the kitchen that he only wanted one photo. Once the kitchen door shut, Abhijeet let out such a big sigh that I thought he would collapse. Then he spotted the towel.

"Oh brilliant, thank you so much I..."

"Yeh apke liye nehi hai," I frowned holding it away from the hand that had extended to take it.  
"Yeh mere sofe ke liye hai taki ap jab betho to woh gila na ho jai."

He let out another sigh as I pointed towards the living room. I laid out the towel on the sofa and went to light the oil lamp from a rather disastrous camping trip that dad had insisted we take two years previous so that we weren't in total darkness.

"Right, what's so important?" I asked him, folding my arms and leaning back into one of the arm chairs opposite.

"Me Daya ke bare me baat karne aya hu," he began.

"Ap aye ho uske behalf me, huh fattu..."

"Eyii," Abhijeet interrupted.

"Kya eyii, woh Jhanvi ko us time pe paise deke or airport chorke bhag gaya tha jab Jhanvi ko _uski_ sabse zyada zarurat thi," Nakul, who had slipped into the room, unnoticed, barked.  
"Ese insane ko fattu nehi kahenge to kya kahenge?"

"Dekho, wahi me samjhane aya hu..."

"...Or Daya ne hi saaf saaf mujhe us din keh diya tha," I continued, talking over the top of Abhijeet and not even caring that I was being obnoxious, "That he didn't want to see me again."

"Me woh bhi samjhaunga ki woh esa kyu..." Abhijeet mumbled.

"To samjhao, hum khare he yaha pe! Samjhao!"

"Thik hai," he began, taking in a deep breath. "Daya ne tumhe chora mere wajah se..."

"Yeh baat to hume bhi bhot ache se pata hai isme samjhane wali kya baat hai, Mr. Sherlock," Nakul sneered.

"Yar tum logo ko meri baat nehi sunni na, bas mera ragging kar rhe ho na?" he asked nobody.

"Haan," Nakul and I answered in sync again.

Groaning, he continued.  
"Jese ki me bata rha tha usne mere wajah se tumhe chora. Par sirf wahi tak baat khatam nehi hua. Tum jab us room se chali gayi thi tab mene khud use kaha tha ki use mere or tumhare beech kisi ko chun na hoga, ya to me rahunga CID me or is mission me uske saath ya fir tum, ab me soch raha hu ki me kitna kamina tha..."

"Woh to ap ho hi," muttered Nakul.

Abhijeet ignored him and continued, "...kyuki mujhe pata tha woh mujhe hi chunega, apne farz of dosti ko hi chunega. Besides, Agar me CID chor deta to fir we'd have to resign from the mission, and our management would have sooner removed you by force than let us cancel, so whatever happened, mujhe pata tha ki humare DCP khud tumhe nikal bahar fekte is mission se."

"Wow apka plan to bhot amazing tha..."

"Would you _shut...up_!" Abhijeet hissed through clenched teeth at my friend, his annoyance becoming more and more apparent.  
"Excuse me, don't talk to Nakul like that," I growled across the room at him.

For a second I thought Abhijeet was about to explode, but he composed himself, balling his hands into tight fists until the urge to spontaneously combust had passed.

"Look, if I was being selfish I wouldn't have bothered to come back here to...apologise...to you two. Par baat yaha meri nehi, Daya ki hai."

"Well if it was going to be so uncomfortable for you to be here why didn't he come himself?" I asked, still with a bitter edge on my tongue.

"Kyuki woh yaha nehi ana chahta hai."

Abhijeet's last words cut me deep and I looked up, blinking furiously to fight against the tears that had appeared in the corners of my eyes. There was a part of me that had never wanted to admit what had happened, but what had just been said confirmed that all bridges had been burnt between me and his best friend.

"No... ek minute, mere kehne ka matlab woh nehi tha," Abhijeet panicked, obviously having seen my distress.

"To fir kya matlab tha?" I enquired, the lump in my throat strangling the words as they came out. If he hadn't already worked out that I was on the verge of tears, he did now.

"Jab hume pata chala ki tumne woh..."

Nakul cleared his throat loudly and obviously. Abhijeet growled.

"Tumne..._or Nakul ne_... woh article nehi likhwaya tha to Daya bhot khush ho gaya tha, for about half a second. He felt so bad then for what he'd done at the airport, and he really wouldn't blame you if you never spoke to him again. Usne kaha tha ki woh pehle se tumhara bhot bara gunegar hai, or agar woh firse tumhare samne yaha to shayad, woh tumhare liye or takleef laye, and he didn't want that."

I brushed my hand quickly over my cheek, wiping away the traitorous tear that had escaped my eye before anyone saw it. I was experiencing too many emotions to cope with. I was worried that my body would combust from simply overloading on them. I was so relieved that Daya finally knew the truth, slightly confused about his reasons for not coming back, and angry that he was too gutless to come and apologise for himself.

There was a momentary silence in the room while everyone digested the conversation so far. Then Nakul piped up.

"Ap logo ko Sid ke bare me kese pata laga? I left before telling anyone."

Abhijeet shuddered obviously.  
"Humara kaam hi hai tehkikat karna, aur jab hume laga ki shayad tum dono begunah ho to humne Sid ka peecha kiya, uspe nazar rakha... Or..."  
He trailed off, giving me a very pained look, "Yeh to shayad tumhe pata hai ki woh Tum logo ke boss Sanjay ke rishte hai hai, par jab humne tehkikat ki to..."  
He sighed. "Hume pata laga, ki woh Shreya ka hone wala pati, Siddharth hai!"  
Christian was in hysterical laughter. I had a suspicious feeling that it was a case of either laugh or cry, because he was smart enough to have worked out that it was another reason that Sid had just been using him. My heart went out to Shreya. We all have been through the love wars recently and were carrying the cuts and bruises to prove it.  
"Woh Siddharth hai, or woh yeh sab natak Daya ko expose krne ke liye or tumhe badnaam karne ke liye kar rha tha! Or Shreya tak ko is baat ki bhanak nehi lagne di. Jab ki woh bhi is mission me thi. Usne get up esi kar rakhi thi ki... I mean gay banne ki acting or woh sab!" He trailed off, shuddering visibly.  
"Khair, ab kya?" I asked Abhijeer, "You've apologised for you and for your best friend. Is that all you came to do? Do we go back to our own lives now and pretend none of this happened?"

"If that's what I wanted I wouldn't have bothered coming. We could have done a pretty good job of ignoring each other without the apology. Me yaha sirf apology ke liye hi nehi aya hu... Daya tumhare bina, bilkul akela hai, jese ki koi robot ko.. Koi feelings rahi nehi usme ab."

"And how am I supposed to help exactly?"

"I thought I was supposed to be the clueless one here? Me chahta hu ki tum mere saath chalo, use manao or... Sab thik kar do."

"Because it's that simple," I sneered sarcastically.

"Why not?"

"Woh use chorke bhag gaya isliye!" Nakul shouted, letting no-one forget that he was in the room too.

"Yar... Yeh, Yeh Daya ka nature hai, woh yar esa hi hai." Abhijeet muttered, rolling his eyes, "He can't say goodbye. Uske humesha mere saahare ki zarurat parti hai kuch kehne ke liye, humesha. Yeh aj ki baat nehi hai, yeh bhot pehle se esa hai, Jhanvi."

"To isme me kya kar sakti hu huh?" I snapped back, the bitterness in my head still reigning over what the heart was screaming at me to do. Of course I wanted nothing more than to run back to Daya all smiles and forgiveness, but I didn't want to give in so easily.

"Please, Jhanvi, agar tum chahti ho to me tumhare age gir gira ke tumse maafi mang sakta hu. Do I have to move the towel if I do so I don't get the carpet wet?" Abhijeet asked, smirking at his own little joke.

"Mujhe tumse koi lena dena nehi hai Abhijeet, me chahti hu Daya yeh kare tum nehi," I said defiantly.

"Mujhe koi problem nehi hai, we'll just go back to the apartment and..."

"No, I want him to come here."

"Impossible. Woh kabhi nehi ayega yaha pe."

"Oh, I am sorry. He needs to show me, to make the effort, or no deal."

"And if I can't get him to come?"

"Then it's been nice knowing both of you," I concluded, refolding my arms to make sure I got my point across.

"_Larkiya or unke nakhre_," Abhijeet grumbled. Then after about a minute of thinking he sighed in defeat.  
"Fine... par ek baat hai..."

"Kya?"

"Tumhare pas petrol hai kahi? My car ran out about a mile back and I couldn't find a petrol pump, the sat-navigation on my phone is not working."

I couldn't help but laugh.  
"I was wondering how you got _this_ soaked."

Abhijeet eventually got sorted and went back home to talk to Daya, with promises to return tomorrow. He also promised that if Daya dug his heels in and refused to come that he'd phone me to arrange something else. I didn't know what to expect. If Daya refused point blank to come to see me then I knew that his bond didn't run as deep as we'd all thought. Eventually we'd both get over each other and get on with our lives.

My heart was a constant blockade in my throat. I was sure that I looked as though I'd aged about ten years because of the lack of sleep I'd gotten the night before. When I woke up, it was a matter of counting the very seconds until Abhijeet appeared. I would glance at the clock, then glance at it again. It was moving so slowly that it almost seemed to be ticking backwards. He'd said that if he was coming, it would be after lunch sometime. But that sometime could be anything from about midday until midnight, knowing those CID men severely messed up biological clocks.

Nakul was unusually quiet. He had probably realised that today was one of those days where I wouldn't exactly welcome the camp and hyperactive portion of his personality. Any little whisper of a car engine and I was at the window, checking to see if it was Daya's monster of a jeep-thing. But it never was. I couldn't concentrate on television, it was impossible to even flick through a magazine and music just annoyed me. The other annoyance had, thankfully, been taken away. My parents had taken my brother's out for the day to give me space. There were no secrets kept from my mother, whether I wanted to or not.

I was about five minutes away from snapping completely when the unmistakeable big white jeep pulled up outside, so big that the whole room darkened slightly.

Up until then I'd thought I'd been nervous, but now was completely different. My heart felt as though it was going to shatter my ribs and jump out of my very chest it was beating so hard.

I went and stood behind the door, waiting with bated breath for the knock. I could hear them arguing the whole way up the path, which was only a matter of metres, but seemed like miles.  
Nakul was standing in the doorway of the living room, staying a respectable distance away, giving me enough space to breathe. He smiled a reassuring smile and I knew that, whatever happened now, good or bad, Nakul was there for me.

The door knocked and I nearly pounced on the handle. Nakul cleared his throat loudly, halting my almost frantic actions. He held up a hand and counted down from five on his fingers. I knew this routine from whenever we'd have boyfriends calling. We'd always be so eager to open the door straight away, but never wanted to appear too keen, so we'd count down.

The five seconds nearly suffocated me, but when the last finger came down, I opened the door.

I didn't really know what to expect, but when I opened the door I was greeted with the top of Daya's head as he stared at his shoes like a scolded child. Abhijeet was glaring exasperatedly at his best friend's back.

There was an awkward silence. I'd never been in a situation like this. Did I ask him to say sorry, or did he say it, or did I invite him in first. My brain was going crazy, but the only thing that I was getting from it was static. Abhijeet kicked Daya in the shin.

"Abe bol," he hissed.

Daya lifted his head slightly, and I caught the sight of his two molten toffee eyes looking at me from under a sweaty forhead, his lips pursed. It made my head spin.

"Hi," he muttered, almost inaudibly.

"Abe tu Hi bolne aya hai yah ape... Yar Daya don't act silly now," his best friend growled.

It was probably a matter of seconds, but it seemed like Daya took forever to finally find his voice.  
"I..." he began, but it disappeared into a croak. He cleared his throat, "I'm sorry."

Now it was my turn. He was here, and he was sorry, but I just wanted to be sure he knew what for.

"Sorry for what?" I asked, folding my arms.

He looked a little surprised, turning around to glance at Abhijeet for help to the question.

"Mene kaha tha yeh thora difficult hoga," Abhijeet sneered, "Koi bari baat nehi hai, keep going."

"Sorry for... for leaving you at the airport and... and for not supporting you and... for making you leave..." he mumbled to his shoes.

"Anything else?"

He looked up at me again and it took all my strength to stand still and not rush forward to embrace him.  
His eyes were glassy and serious.  
"I miss you, I love you Jaan!" he whimpered.

And that was all it took for me to crack. I half jumped, half stepped out of my door and threw my arms around his neck, hugging his steel body so tight that I thought I might break something, not him but my glasses, maybe.

"Apology accepted," I said, my words muffled by the shoulder I'd pressed my face against.

"I love you," he whispered to my hair as he gripped his arms around me in an equally tight hold, "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," I replied, "I know you are and..." I stopped as I let go enough so that I could move my head around so that I was looking him straight in the face, instead of speaking to his defined shoulder.  
"I love you too."

We kissed and it felt like the first drink of water after a week in the Sahara desert.

"Thank GODD," Abhijeet sighed with momentous relief somewhere behind us, "Ab rona band kar de mere bhai, bhabhi bhil mil gayi!"

Daya broke off to glare at his best friend.  
"Me rota nehi hu."

"Tu rota nehi hai? Chup reh, mene jhela hai tujhe pure time, ya to bureau me ya fir tere ghar me, sale mera bhi khana peena sona sab kar diya tha tune apne chakkar me."

Daya turned back to me.  
"Me tumhe rondhlu lagta hu kya?"

"Occasionally," I admitted with a giggle. He rolled his eyes and then with a smile kissed my forehead. Then, he rested his cheek against it and I felt so content, I would have happily stayed like that for the rest of my life.

"Ha to, dosto mujhe pata hi tum dono ka abhi bonding ritual jo bhi hai woh hua hai, isiliye kissing wagerah, yuh khule me... Nehi yeh bhot romantic hai me bhi manta hu, par kya hai ki Mumbai me he, Amsterdam to nehi hai na! Log ulta seedha samjhenge, ACP sir ko pata chala to..." Abhijeet pointed out.

We both ignored him. That is, until Nakul bounded out of the spot in the house where he had been restraining himself and put his arms around us in a group hug.

"Yay!" he cried, "Everyone happy again!"

I only realised after getting Daya back how much I had missed him. It was a slightly scary thought, and I certainly didn't ever want to be parted from him again, no matter what the reason. Was this what people called love? Was this what people talked about in all those famous books and movies and songs? Because if it was, I could see what all the fuss was about.

Daya and I had had our fair share of dramatic up's and down's now, so much so that we had to be unstoppable now. You know what it is they say:

_Third time lucky._


	12. Chapter 12

**Apologies for the late update... Thanks to every one of you for such a wonderful review! Nothing else to say much about this chapter...you could say it's more like a reunion party and all that! Please do comment and suggest, like you always do! Enjoy! :D**

I looked down at my hands. Nestled in Daya's large palms. He looked through my eyes, detailing my face in his mind. As if to remember it forever. I was relaxed. I should be. Daya is mine, I was his. We will be happy, everyone is happy with us, even his best friend, Abhijeet, seem to have no problem with me. He accepted me the way I am, an average girl with no skills to kick and punch criminals that shreya has. I wasn't jealous of her. Because I have Daya forever to be mine. I have nothing else to loose. Friends and Love. I finally have them all to myself.

"Kaha kho gayi?" Daya touched my cheek to get my attention. I smiled with confound. I shook my head and looked at our surrounding. He was making sure that I did not sideline him because of his previous mistakes. He apologetically asked me and my rest of the family to take my hand like one fine gentle man and marry him. I was surprised by his spontaneous decision, but Nakul reminded me that it was not so spontaneous if we think about, it's almost two years for him to realize his love for me.

He looks around my room, I lent the bathroom to him to use for the day. He was preparing for his shower after the stressful event. Mum eagerly invited him and Abhijeet for the day. She hopped off to the kitchen to make her special specialities. I rolled my eyes when I checked her face. She just wanted to have a 'damad' so bad, she can do anything to confront it without having a second thought. I bet she'd already decided with the lahenga that she will make me wear for my wedding.

Daya is hanging his clothes up in the wardrobe that I spared. "Are you sure me tumhara wardrobe use kar sakta hu?"

"Definitely."

He gaps at my wardrobe and tuts. "Yeh to mujhe jungle nazar arha, tum kabhi koi cheez neatly kyu nehi rakh sakti?"

"Mujhe zarurat nehi parta, sab kuch mujhe ese hi mil jata hai!" I grinned recline on the sofa and watch as he roll his eyes drags his case over.

"You sure have a big case for someone who was only supposed to be away for a couple of nights." I looked at his suit case.

"Mujhe samajh me nehi ata ki me lau to lau kya. So I bring everything, Ooph" He lifts it onto the side then starts to neatly put everything away.

I crack open a bottle of cola. "Want one?"

He tuts again "Me airiated drinks nehi pita!"

"Whatever..."

"Tum kal chal rhi ho mere sath," He mumbles as he unbuttons his shirt. I trace my eyes on his contours.

"Kaha?"

"Mumbai, or kaha? Tumhare apne ghar me!"

"Mera mood nehi hai!" I huff as I take a swig.

"Dekho Jhanvi, mujhe nakhre pasand nehi! Tum chal rhi ho or agar apne marzi se nehi jaogi to mujhe zabardasti krne se koi nehi rok sakta!"  
I laugh as he justifies himself. "I mean it," he repeats as I pull him down and we share a long kiss. Serious for a moment I stroke his cheek. "You don't need it. Me chalungi tumhare saath."

Smiling happily, he disappears into the bathroom with his toiletaries and I can hear him carefully arranging everything on the glass shelves.

bzzz

bzzz  
I stretched my neck to see Daya's phone ringing.  
"Uh! Daya, your phone's ringing."

"Well answer it then."

"Oh. OK." I pick it up. "Hello? Err... Daya's phone."

"Hallo? Daya?" A man's voice. A defiant husky voice that sent shivers down my spine, it's as intimidating as Daya's.

"Would you hold on? I'll get him." I put my hand over the phone and shout. "Daya!"

"Who is it?"

"I don't know." I put it back to my ear. "Who is it please?"

"ACP Pradyuman."

I drop the phone like it's on fire.

_"Shit! Damn!"_

I grovel on the floor and retrieve the phone from under the sofa.

"Hallo? Sir ap line me hona?"

"Ha! Daya ko phone do!"

"Sorry. I'll get him."

I run into the bathroom and thrust the phone at him. "Quick!"

"Who is it?"

I'm pale. "ACP sir."

Laughing he takes the phone from me. He grips my hand to stop me from fleeing.

"Good evening Sir!"

" "

"Ha sir, yehi hai!"

He puts his arm round my waist and pulls me to him as he talks.

" "

"Ha, sir mafi mil gayi!" He laughed, studying my petrified expression.

" "

"Abhijeet ne manaya actually."

" "

"Oh, apne Abhijeet se baat karli?"

" "

"Me bhi wahi soch raha tha..."

" "

"Usne kya kaha?"

" "

"Ha?"

" "

"Acha."

" "

He smiles at me.

"Shayad, man bane to."

" "

"Okay sir, thank you sir." He cut the call tossing the phone on the rack near the basin.

I stare at him.

"Kya hua ab?" I ask him with a faint blush. The ACP, the boss of these two bosses now knew every detail about me. I just felt some what similar to what any other girl would feel when she encounters her to be in laws for the first time. Nervous, yes. Excited, not much. Other than the fact that the ACP is as daunting as Hitler or Mao Ze Dung, for Daya ACP is his and most certainly Abhijeet's god father. ACP is absolutely every part of what we refer as guardian to both the officers. I already knew that Daya is an orphan, and ACP being the kindest person, has taken care of him since he joined the bureau, just how a father treats his son. So ACP detailing my every bit of nature and characteristics is his foremost right and therefore, I should be scared to bits.

"Tum sawal bhot puchti hu Jhanvi!" He grinned.

"Excuse me, yeh mera haq hai okay, Woh ACP sir the! He was asking about me right?"

"Ha tumhare bare me hi puch rhe the. Milwaunga tumhe unse, he is excited to see you!"

"Right, unke voice sunke hi pata lag gya, kitne excited sound kar rhe the!" I mentioned, remembering his monotone voice as he spoke to me.

Daya rolled his eyes.

"Chalo yeh sab choro, ab nahana he mujhe! Madad karogi meri?" He asks.

"Huh?" I eyed his expression, oblivious to the meaning of his question. He rolls his eyes again as he gently pulls my tank top straps down my shoulder with a sly look. If it's possible my eyes almost shot out of my sockets and my glasses.

"Bye!" I struggled myself away from his grasp and ran out of the bathroom pulling back my straps on the way out.

He started laughing energetically as I made my escape.

The scene of our kitchen room looks so typical, any bollywood director would want to film it. Mother was busy chopping vegetables, while Abhijeet is finishing the half prepared dinner that Mother left.

"Ma, mehmano se kam karwa rhi ho?" I pretended to rant at her.

Mother laughed.

"Mene kaha tha na Abhijeet, yeh larki bhot kharus or ariyal hai!"

Abhijeet looked up.

"Ma ji, me agaya hu na me sambhal lunga! Dekho Jhanvi, tumhara or Daya ka to story ban gaya. Mera bhi to turn ana chahiye na shaadi karne ka! Ab agar Tarika ji ko esa pati chahiye jo khana bhi banaye, to me woh banne ke liye tayyar hu! Or shuruat aj se hi hona chahiye!" He wooted before going back to stirring. Mother stretched and left us to ourselves.

"Tum dono ka rona dhona khatam hua?" Abhijeet grinned, gesturing me to pass him the salt.

"Oh, hum rote nehi hai, khair apke matlab ki baat nehi hai. Abhi abhi bhi pyaar me itne andhe nehi hue." I cooed dramatically, leaning over the pan and sniff the pleasant aroma. "Hmmm, another cook in the family. Who taught you to make this soup? Tarika?"

"Nehi, yeh meri or Daya ki ek khas dost nehi sikhaya tha, actually tab woh Daya ke bhot achi dost thi. Don't tell him ki mene us larki se personal classes liye the." He giggles.  
"Khas dost huh?" I asked with a scrutinizing expression.

"Thi! Abhi nehi hai!" Abhijeet exaggerated with a laugh.  
Abhijeet stirs the sauce a little then uncorks a bottle of wine, pouring three glasses and handing one to me.

"How about a toast?"

I raise my glass. "The future?"

"And the past..." He sips the wine. "Aj ke baad koi past ko yaad na rakhe, yehi ummeed ke sath jiyenge. Daya to pagal hote hote bacha tha, or mujhe bhi pagal bana gaya!"

"Dont forget about me, mere saath sabse zyada torture hua tha. Uska mujhse yeh sab kehna ki woh mujhse or kabhi nehi milega, that was extreme. Uski nafrat, the extremist!"

"Nah woh kafi nehi tha. I think we _all started _hating you for a bit."

I'm embarrassed. "Ouch!"  
He groans.  
"Mene kya kaha tha, past ko bhul jao, ab koi past wali bate nehi karega."

"Kavin or Pankaj? Woh dono mere bare me kya soch rhe the."

"Me Hebrew me baat kar rha hu kya? I repeat, no talking about past.."  
"Please batao na, I want to know?" I pressed on.

He settled the lid of the utensil, he looked serious as he was trying to remember. "Mujhe yaad hai ki Pankaj or Freddy tumhare bare me spying kar rhe the, Jab tum apne ghar agayi thi, ha woh dono tumhare bare me or zyada obsessed ho gaye the, kisi ko yeh idea bhi nehi tha ki tum... Mind you, Me yeh sab tumhe satane ke liye nehi keh raha hu, I know you are innocent. Everyone likes you now."

I laughed. "Mujhe koi farak nehi parta, na tab para hai na aj parega! Rehna mujhe Daya ke sath he."

He gave me a sceptical look.

"Mujhe yaad hai, you two click so much, pehle din se hi, magnets ki tarah ek dusre se chipak rahe ho! And believe it or not, pichle do saalo se usne apni personal life or office life ko alag kar diya hai, or woh bhi sirf or sirf tumhare liye." He turns away from me and pours some dressing over the salad. "_I wish I could find what you two have._" He mumbles, more to himself.

"You already have." I reminded him.

He shakes his head. "I don't know... Tarika esi nehi hai. I am not complaining but woh bhot alag hai, tum jesi nehi hai, tum samajh rahi ho na?" He looks at me cautiously, his brown eyes seem a little sad, but completely sincere.

He looked distant for a moment before turning back to me, "Mene suna hai he ki agar tumhare koi achi friend ho jo tumhari problem samjhe, tumhe usse help mangni chahiye. Kya tum kuch karogi taki..Tarika bhi thora dedicated ho jai is relationship ko leke, you know what I am saying?"

I smile. "Of course. Tum fikar mat karo! Tum dono ki lovestory or zyada hit jaigi!"

He shrugs as he continues to stir the food. "I hope so."

"Abhijeet... can I ask..." I hesitate as I struggle to put my question into words. "Abhijeet, kya Daya mere sath khush reh payega, woh bhi bohot alag hai or confused bhi... He has so much of questions and self-doubt. But I don't fully understand why. It wasn't... Abhijeet, it wasn't me was it? Maine uske saath jo kiya mujhe pata hai woh galat tha, I know that... I know if I was not right... but it was for him that I left my hard earned job... _I did it for him_..." I start to cry. "I didn't do it to hurt him Abhijeet... _I did it because I loved him_..."

He stops cooking and comes to me, wiping the tears from my eyes. "Hey! No! Nonono! Please mat ro. Me ab samajh sakta hu tumhe Tarika. I mean Jhanvi Here, come on." I glare at him, as he laughs. He gently pushes me towards the table and we sit down. In a second he becomes deadly serious.

"When you left he was distraught, absolutely devastated, bhot hi zyada gussa ubhar gaya tha uske band. But underneath all the tears and sadness he knew it was the right thing to do. Tumse dur rehna uski majburi thi, taki woh tumhe bekasoor sabit kar sake. And I know you really had such a great time together. I still cannot understand how close you became in such a short time. Uske man ko par sakta hu me, mujhe pata chal gaya tha ki...you two are physically...intimate too!"

I blush a little as I refill our glasses.

"So anyway, he talked about you a lot, but kept a lot to himself too. I think he was pretty happy jab tum bekasoor sabit hui. We did an interview you know, quite soon after you left, where he was confronted with a picture of you and him making out in that magazine."

"I saw it, magazine me."

"_Really_?" His eyes look incredulous.  
I didn't reply.  
He sighs and continues. "I think that interview helped him. Sab kuch clear ho gaya tha media me, ki yeh sab fake or photoshoped pictures hai. Log tumpe ungli utha rhe the, puch rhe the ki tum humare bureau se kese related ho and all that. Daya ne, magically sab sambhal liya tha..."

"Kisne kya magic kiya?" Nakul interrupts as he produces himself out of nowhere, carrying two large and heavy grocery bags, tagged along with my two brothers.

"Oh, Nakul!" Abhijeet sulked.

"Yar sare frowns mere liye hi kyu bachake rkhte ho Abhijeet Ji!"

"Kyuki apko or koi kam hota nehi hota hai, bus mere peeche lage rehte ho!" Abhijeet mocked a smile.

"I am not interested in you! Kitne baar apko kahu! Ap apne ap ko itna special mat mano!"

"Tum..." Abhijeet clenched his jaws.

"Acha bas! Diner serve karo mujhe bhuk lagi hai!" Daya breaks in, carrying all the dishes to the table. His eyes met mine and he winked. I grinned, hiding my obvious blush. His attire was enough to make me drool actually. His gray T-shirt and Capri showed off his unusual casual look. I could easily see the shadow of muscle moving under his tight Tees as he lifted all the trays and dishes and layed them neatly on their respective place. My brothers excitedly join him and help him in setting the table. Parents gather around the table and took their respective seats. Abhijeet and Daya served the food, helping my parents with everything they needed. Daya caught my eyes and gestured me to join them. I smile and shake my head. Amid all the laughter and chattering of my family, I could only focus all my attention to him and feel him moving towards me, linking his arms around me, just enough for not getting any unnecessary attention.

"Kha lo! Raat ho gayi hai!" He whispers. His cool breath lulling me to move closer to him.

"Tumne bhi to nehi khaya kuch abhi tak!"

"Hum dono badme kha lenge!" He gestured to Abhijeet who was giving cautious look at Nakul, but nevertheless chattering with my parents and my brothers.

"To fir me kese kha sakti hu!"

He frowns and groans.

"Oh please, enough with the guest crap, thik hai? Tum jao or kha lo!" He pulled my hand and almost lead me to the table.

"No Daya," I pull him back, "Mujhe tum dono ke saath khana hai! End of story! Bhot dino baad hum sath hai! Let me enjoy this!" I mumbled.

He sighs looking at my family. He then pulls me to the other room, where no one would see us.

He pushes me against the wall and his lips move to my ear. "You are stubborn as a mule, do you know that?" He moves one hand round to my front, pressing his body against mine and yanking my hands to both sides. My breath catches in my throat as he pulls on it slightly before his lips come to mine with a hard, bruising kiss.

"Erm, I hate to interrupt the course of true love... but sab logo ka khana khatam ho gaya hai, hum kab khainge?"

Abhijeet is standing in the kitchen doorway, grinning while Nakul laughed.

We turn our heads to look at him.

"Ooh! Matching pouts! Sorry guys, break it up, we gotta eat!" Nakul cooed.

We reluctantly follow them and sit down, he's dimmed the lights and somehow managed to make the table look like a trattoria.

I laugh. "I didn't even know I _had _candles!"

Daya frowns. "Sirf do logo ke liye plate, dieting pe ho kya tum dono?"

"Mujhe laga tum dono ko akele me khana chahiye, you know reunion diner." Abhijeet shrugs as he picks up a tray, ready to take it into the living room. Nakul agrees and takes his tray too.

"Tum dono ke dono pagal ho." Daya pushes out a chair with his foot. "Sit." He starts to shovel food into his mouth.

"Daya!" I snatch his bowl away.

"What?"

"You can at least wait for us! Cid officers me manners nehi hai kya?!"  
Nakul broke into giggles.  
He looks sheepish. "Sorry, mene subah se kuch nehi khaya_._" He refills our wine glasses.

"Abhijeet, yar yeh dish to wese hi banaya hai tumne jese me banata hu, same to same! Kaha se seekha?"

"Uhm, Sabrina se, jo Goa ki thi, usse."

"Oh." Daya nods and takes a sip of wine, then his brow furrows. "Hey! Wait a minute! Meri Sabrina from Goa, uski baat kar rhe ho kya?"

Abhijeet squirms. "_Humari _Sabrina from Goa, uski bare me baat kar rha hu."

"Shukar he dono ko ek saath nehi sikhaya hoga yeh dish banana!" Nakul and I say in unison and sniggered.

Two deadly glares turn and stare at me and Nakul.

"Oops, sorry!" I busy myself with my food. "We'll stay out of it..."

I and Nakul watch in amusement as the two CID officers argue back and forth, very considerately in Hindi and mostly in Marathi. I fail to understand the conclusion, the issue seemingly resolved as quickly as it had arisen, with some kind of best friendly understanding. Nakul gets up from his table and takes the leave.

Abhijeet leans back in his chair and looks at Daya. "So, bata diya ACP sir ko sab kuch?"

"Sab kuch matlab?"

"Tum dono ke shaadi ke bare me yar!"

Daya shakes his head. "No, not yet. I thought we could do it tomorrow."

"We? Who's we? Mujhe mat fasao!" Abhijeet laughs.

Daya shrugs. "Ab shaadi karwane ka zimma tumhara hai, kal hum ek saath bata denge sir ko..."

"Mai ek kam karta hu unhe ek photo send kar deta hu, tum dono ki ek saath photo dekhenge to shayad unhe acha lage!" Abhijeet reaches for his bag and produces a camera out of the pocket then aims it at us.

"No!" I cover my face. "Not now!"

The flash goes off.

"Abhijeet! Stop it!" I bury my head in Daya's shoulder. "Yar meri shakal dekhi hai, I look horrible."

I hear Abhijeet laughing. "Aww, that's such a sweet pose." The flash goes off again. "OK, OK, I'm done."

I look up, relieved.

Another flash.

"Abhijeet!" I glare at Daya. "Tum mere side me ho ya iske side me?"

He smiles at me. "Me abhi le leta hu isse iska camera, Happy?" He snatches it from his best friend.

"Hey, you'd better not use it in the bedroom tonight. Pata nehi tum dono is camera ko leke kya kya candid moments shoot karo!"

I blush red. "Tum kya keh rhe ho Abhijeet? Hum tumhe itne bold nazar ate he kya?"

"Yar us raat tum dono ne jo kiya, its not so hard to assume..." He sighs then yelps in pain as both Daya and I kick him hard under the table.

He stands up, rubbing his shin, then starts to clear the plates. As he takes mine he leans down and kisses me on the cheek. "Sorry, just reliving happy memories."

I smile up at him. "Memories se yaad ayaa, tumne apne hair style change kar liye."

"Ha yar Tarika ko impress karne ke liye kuch to karna hi hoga haina, he brushes his hand over his hair.

Daya is happily mopping up the last bit of sauce on his plate with bread. "Sab humesha impress karne ke chakkar me natural beauty kya hota hai woh hi bhul jate he, jaise mujhe yaad hai jab Jhanvi apne interview ke liye ayi thi, usne apne legs tak shave kiye the, _mujhe_ impress karne ke liye."

"Daya, do you have to tell him _everything_?" I glare at him.

"You know I do. I have to tell _you_ everything now too." He picks up the last piece of bread, gesturing towards his best friend. "_Yeh _apna chest shave karwata hai, Tarika ko impress karne ke liye."

I hear Nakul laughter straight from his room.

Daya chuckles to himself as Abhijeet and I pick up our drinks and leave the room.

"Hey! Mujhe chorke kaha ja rhe ho?" Daya grabs his bowl and scurries after us. "I'm not finished yet!"

-


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi everyone! I am back after a little visit to my home town! So was pretty much tight in schedule... Just came back annnnddd thanks for all the reviews to this story, some of you were asking me to keep updating this chapter, in case I forget it! Well, I haven't. Jhanvi is always close to me! So here it is, another squeaky little chapter to entertain you all! Enjoy it and do comment it! Thanks a ton! **

Every other creature in this house was sleeping. Except for three of us. We were quite content to have the moment back. After the diner session we huddled in the living room, digging into a big bowl of ice-cream.

Abhijeet has gone upstairs to fetch a quilt and pillows so he can make up the sofa-bed.  
In the mean time Daya shifts his gaze from Abhijeet's retreat then on me and grins. He deliberately splashes ice-cream onto my neck then leans in to lick it off. I squeal and retaliate by dribbling some down inside the front of his t-shirt which he obligingly lifts up for me to return the favour.

"Guys, guys!" Abhijeet stands in front of us with his arms full of bedding. "Look, Main samajh sakta hu ki tum dono bhot dino baad mil rhe ho...Pyaar ubhar ubhar ke samne arha hai, I totally get it but you two have been all over each other for the past hour and it's sickening. Me ek insan hu insane nehi so please go to your room Jhanvi, or Daya to mere saath soyega aj raat! Samjha!?"

"Par yar we have _not _been all over each other! Hum to tere saath beithke film dekh rhe hai." Daya pulls his shirt down and protests.

"Lo, tum logo pata bhi nehi ki tum log ashlil ban rhe ho. Acha batao what's the movie about?"

"It's..." I frown. "Help me Daya"

"Spies! It's something to do with spies!"

Abhijeet shakes his head. "Gadho, hum Gladiator dekh rhe the."

"Well, Roman spies then..."

"Oh, just shut up and get off the sofa so I can pull the bed out. Aj tu or me yehi soyenge!"

Daya drops to sit on the floor while I help with the bedding. As I lean over to smooth the sheets down he runs his hand up my leg.

Abhijeet points. "Look! There! You're doing it again!"

Daya snatches his hand away. "Abe, iske Jeans me ice cream laga hua tha." He puts his hand back on my leg and pretends to pick bits off the denim. "Ice cream."

Abhijeet rolls his eyes and grabs his bag. "Listen, I'm going up to the bathroom. Is bed pe kisi ne ashlil bhari harkat ki... to bhot bura hoga."

We nod obediently then as soon as he's gone we gleefully leap onto it.

When Abhijeet comes back we're sitting up, finishing the ice cream.

He narrows his eyes. "Tum dono mujhe bewakuf samajhte ho?"

Daya looks up innocently. "Beta, hum TV dekh rhe hai, relax."

"Acha? To fir Jhanvi ki top ese nikle hue kyu hai be?"

I looked to my left shoulder, my strap was down. "Damn."

Unphased, Daya changes the subject. "Yeh wala pajama naya he tera, kaha se kharida Abhijeet?"

"Yeh Pajama nehi hai, it's an extremely expensive track suit. Tum dono nehi samjhoge." Abhijeet huffed.

"Sirf Tarika samjhegi, haina?" I ask with a grin.

"Ha woh samjhegi!" He laughs and jumps on the bed with us. "Me soch rha tha ki dhang ka kuch pehn lu, seeing as I'm in polite company."

Daya looks at me. "Yar, mer Jhanvi Sharma rahi hai, chup ho ja!"

Abhijeet leans forward and grins in my direction. "Mere bare me soch rahi hogi."

I blush even redder. "Yar ho gaya? Seriously koi soch bhi nehi sakta tum dono itne khatarnaak ho."

"Acha esi baat hai! Abhijeet apna shaved chest dikha! Agar credit mil raha hai kaminepan ka to ache se hi haasil karenge haina!" Daya and Abhijeet started hooting, while I sweat in their presence. What has gotten in them?

"NO!" I cover my eyes.

Daya claps his hands. "Oh come on Jhanvi, dekh lo wese bhi isko bhot over confidence hai apne husan me! Lets see tumhara reaction kya hota hai!"

"Chee mujhe nehi dekhna. I mean, I _do_... but... NO!"

"Its ok, kabhi private me dikha dunga tumhe main..." Out of sight of Daya, Abhijeet winks at me.

"Uhmm..." I mock contemplate his offer. "Agar esi baat hai to me apne shaved legs dikhane ke liye tayyar hu, you ready Abhijeet?" I start to lift my Skirt. Abhijeet's face lit up immediately.

"HEY! NO! STOP THAT! PAGAL MAT BANO!" Daya grabs the edge of my skirt and yanks it down. "What are you doing?! Nobody's showing anybody anything!"

"Tumhara hi idea tha!"

"Hmph, well, I didn't think it through properly. Come on, let's go."

Abhijeet winks at me again as we stand up. "Koi nehi Jhanvi, kabhi or dekh lenge, haina?"

Daya grabs my arm and drags me away. "Say goodnight, Abhijeet."

"Goodnight, Abhijeet!" Abhijeet laughs, and we can still hear him chuckling to himself as we go up the stairs.

-

We're at the airport, waiting for our luggage to come round the carousel.

We are back in Mumbai to start a new beginning. We decided not to bring the my parents since we also decided to plan the our wedding, which took a lot of patient arrangements, and we have left them with my brothers. Abhijeet and Nakul stayed to help my parents with my wedding plan. I was feeling giddy, I have never thought of marriage, having Daya as my husband was like thinking about a different dimension. Before my mind fogged with all the thoughts I grab my bag as it comes in to view.

"Do we have to get a taxi?" I ask Daya.

"Na, ACP sir pick karenge hume."

"Oh joy."

"Yar woh tumhe pasand karte he." Daya purses his lips disapprovingly

"I'm telling you, he doesn't. Woh mujhse ache se baat nehi karnege!"

"Will you at least _try_? I told you, woh bure nehi hai, dil ke bhot ache he, I want you to feel fine with everyone who is in my life Jhanvi."

"Right, meri to koi kadar hi nehi hai tumhare life me. Kal bhi nehi thi aj bhi nehi hai!" I make a face as I haul my case onto the trolley.

He smiles at me. "Tumne bhi to itne haq ke saath apne kadar ki baat nehi ki kabhi."

"Don't change the subject." I pout. "ACP Sir still hates me."

"I thought you'd come to an understanding."

"Hmph. Well, is baar tumne mujhe propose kiya hai, I want to live my life with some dignity now." I balance more bags on the trolley. "OK, that's everything, let's go!"

"No, not yet."

"I thought all your things came through?"

"ACP sir phone karke inform karenge tabhi hum nikal painge, bhot lafra hai bahar."

"Lafra? Matlab?"

He pauses a second. "Photographers."

"Photographers?" I stare at him as I repeat the word, dumbly. "But…"

He looks over his shoulder. "Come, let's sit down."

I follow him to some chairs, we sit, and he takes my hand, starting slowly. "Listen… I'm pretty much off the media radar at the moment, jab se woh sab hua hai, magazine wala scene, tabse I am surrounded by media." He takes a deep breath. "Or me nehi chahta unhe abhi tumhare bare me pata hai, it will be _big_ news. Or shayad tumhare jaan ko khatra ho! CID ke officers ke family ko humesha off media rehna parta hai! You know?"

Suddenly I feel sick to my stomach. "How would they know you're here?"

"Sometimes they get tipped off, someone at the airline, an airport worker maybe - hopefully not this time. ACP sir or Freddy ne bhot ache se sab kuch handle kiya hai."

"I never thought…"

"We've been cocooned in your little house in your little town, where no one knows who I am." He sighs and puts his arm around me. "Yaha har waqt khatra rehta hai, Jhanvi."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because mujhe tumhare saath tumhari choti si duniya me rehne me zyada acha lagta hai, I didn't want you to worry." I can feel myself start to shake and he pulls me closer. "I'm sorry, I should have warned you."

"What about spies and media?"

"Do they still follow me? Harass me?" He shakes his head. "Mere muh koi nehi lagta, me unhke liye khatra hu or rahi sawal media ki, we tipp them off." He looks me in the eye and strokes my cheek. "You know how much I love you, don't you? I would never let any harm come to you, tum meri jaan ho."

"I know… I know." I gulp. "I just never thought about how much people are interested in you and your life. Or that they might want to know about _me_."

"It'll be okay, we'll work something out. Tumhe off media rakhna hi hoga abhi ke liye. Agar too much jaiga then, I might have to send you out of country... Waha tum safely rahogi!"

"WHAT?!" I shriek then hastily cover my mouth, my eyes dart around us to check if anyone is looking.

He laughs. "You might want to keep it down if you want to stay out of the limelight."

"Oh God." I rub my temples. "Daya, I have no idea how to feel about this, I feel so stupid that it never even crossed my mind."

"I'm sure we can keep it under wraps for a while, until you're ready." He looks closely at me, concerned. "I will get you a drink, you look pale." He gives me a kiss then goes over to the machine to get a bottle of water. As he's putting the money in, his phone rings and he has a short conversation, I presume with ACP. He's smiling as he walks back, taking the cap off the bottle before handing it to me. "Here. Sir ka phone tha, it's all clear."

"You didn't tell him about me freaking out did you?"

"No I didn't." He helps me up from the chair. "And I didn't think it was freaking out – I can understand your reaction, I forget, I'm so used to it all – even now."

"Shayad mujhe tumhare saath rehne ki adat dal leni hogi." I sigh. "Do we really need to start real life just yet?"

"Real life? Mere saath?" He laughs. "_Never_."

-

The automatic doors to the arrivals terminal slide open and ACP is, of course, waiting behind the barrier immediately in front of us.

"Sir." Daya waves cheerfully.

"Daya."

I watch as they greet each other with the customary handshake.

"Hello Sir." I do my best to be friendly.

He looks down at me. "Hi." He immediately looks away and smiles at Daya, taking his suitcase from him. "Rehne dijiye Sir me sambhal lunga." Daya grips the suitcases and marches off with him, leaving me standing with my overloaded trolley.

I trundle after them, nearly getting run over by the airport bus in the process, just managing to catch up as they reach the car.

ACP sighs. "Freddy ko kaha tha thora baraa gari mangwane ke liye, itne sare luggages kese ayenge?"

"Oh, Sir, Daya Sir ki Qualis to Sachin Sir le gaye, ab me kya karu, kidher dale saare luggages?"

Their eyes immediately fall on me.

"Mere hi upar dal denge saare luggages, or kya." I mumble under my breath.

This day is going to be long for sure!


	14. Chapter 14

**Hi everyone. I am back. Hope many of you are happy to see me back cuz its been pretty late now. I am so sorry I couldn't pull myself to write such amazing story for you guys, lack of peace and tranquility. Anyways enough of the gap. I hope you continue appreciating my work, and forgive me for my huge huge delay. I will love to read all your suggestions and reviews. Thank you so so so much! **

The car is a sleek black Sedan, with barely room enough in the back for a small child. The tiny boot is soon filled with our cases and bags. ACP had to take a Cab as he wanted to head back to the Bureau.

I grumble as I make an undignified scramble onto the back seat. Daya turns around and grins sheepishly. "Sorry! Mujhe koi idea hi nehi tha ki itni choti car mangwange yeh sab.. Adjust kar lo please."

I ignored his plea scowl at him but my glare is interrupted by Freddy shoving a large holdall at me. "Yeh last wala bag yaha peeche fit nehi hoga." He said with monotone. "Yeh tum apne pas rakho." He gets in, adjusts his seat all the way back, squashing me even further, and starts the engine. "Excuse me." He looks over his shoulder. "Apna sir niche karo, mujhe gaari reverse karwani hai."

As I uncomfortably lean to one side, out of the way, Daya says something to Freddy in Marathi, his tone sharp. Freddy retorts just as sharply and for a moment he is silent. His delayed response sounds even more emphatic. I catch a glimpse of him in the mirror and he looks away, his mouth set in a thin line.

Feeling slightly embarrassed I look out of the window as we speed along. Daya seems unperturbed by their altercation and smiles over his shoulder at me. "Yeh road yaad hai, coffee house ke pas wali jagah jaha humne photo shoot kiya tha? If we go that way we'll pass the hotel we stayed in. Freddy yar, age jake side le lena gaari ko." He points him where he wants to go.

"Par Daya sir yeh rasta apke ghar se ulta parta hai."

"Gaari side karo_ Freddy_."

He sniffs and abruptly turns the corner without slowing down so I slide across the seat, falling on my side.

"Oof." I try to right myself.

Daya laughs and reaches his hand between the seats. "Sorry! Are you OK? Ek kam karo apna bag mujhe do, me pakar leta hu." He takes the holdall from me and puts it on the floor between his feet. "Oh, look, look! There it is! Wahi hotel!"

I lean forward and see the hotel they stayed for the fake interview. It looks exactly the same, I could swear that the doorman is the same one who stood next to me on the steps and told me where their floor is located. The same hall where Nakul ran through to save the breakdown I was going through that night after the fight.

We both stare silently as we pass by; remembering every moment of it, then Daya turns in his seat, leans over and gives me a tender kiss.

Freddy exhales loudly, avoiding us. "Park karu Gaari ko, sir?"

"Nehi rehne de." Daya shakes his head and sits back. "Ab seedha ghar."

-

We're driving through a leafy suburb. Large houses all well fenced and back from the road, are spaced out far apart from each other. It seems like a quiet and well-to-do area, and even though the houses are very private, I can still get a fairly good look at them as we drive along. Some are old and traditional, some are contemporary and stylish. We approach one that seems to be a mix of the two and I can't help but mention it.

"Yeh wala ghar bohot pyaara hai."

Daya smiles. "Sahi hai na? Wese yehi humara ghar hai."

A set of electric gates slide open and we drive up to the front, they immediately retrieve themselves out the car . Daya grins proudly as he stare at his hard earned prize and reaches over to pull me out. "Come on!" He holds my hand tightly as he helps me. "Humara ghar nehi dekhogi?"

I frown. "Humara tab hoga jab tum mujhse shaadi karoge, abhi yeh sirf tumhara hai."

He glances over at Freddy who is emptying the rest of our bags from the back of the car. "Main to abhi se tumhara hu Jhanvi. Or rahi baat shaadi ki to tum jab chaho tab shaadi kar sakte he. Tum yakeen nehi karogi me kitna khush hu..." He laughs as we walk towards Freddy and he looks up grumpily.

"Sir, kal subah 8 baje pochna hai bureau."

"thik hai."

"Me kal pick karne au ya ap ajaoge?"

"Aree, thori der me phone karke kahunga abhi dimag kam nehi kar raha hai. Bad me phone karunga!" Daya takes a couple of the cases and walks away, to the front door, leaving the two of us standing there.

I shrug awkwardly. "Uhm, thank you Freddy, sir."

"Ha thik hai." He hands me a bag, slams the boot, and quickly gets into the car, speeding away in a cloud of gravel dust.

As I stare after the car Daya appears by my side, taking my bag from me. "Kya hua?"

I shrug. "Kya yeh kabhi bhi mujhe maaf kar painge?"

He pats me on the shoulder reassuringly. "Of course – Freddy is very emotional, a slow starter, that's all."

"What did you say to him in the car, when we were at the airport?"

"Kuch nehi. Now come, let's see how you like our house!"

-

Daya opens the front door and steps in, tapping some numbers into a keypad on the wall before holding out his hand and pulling me into the hallway. "Bohot security rakhni parti hai you know… well this is it." He looks at me nervously. "Kesa laga?"

I turn slowly, taking in my surroundings. It's large, light and airy, stylish – but not so stylish that you might feel uncomfortable. "I think… I think you need to show me around."

He hastily brings the bags inside before closing the door behind us, and then he grabs me in a tight hug. "Chalo fir."

We start in the living room, which is huge and seems to take up more than half of the downstairs space, going from the front to the back, wrapping in an L shape around the house then joining on to the kitchen and dining area. Glass doors open onto the garden and a covered conservatory links the rooms together.

He turns to me as we look out over the garden. "Kuch to comment do, itne dil se sajaya hai is ghar ko."

"Your house is beautiful."

"_Our_ house."

"Fine, sorry, _our_ house."

He frowns. "You don't sound so sure."

"It's a lot to take in. It seems so _big_ to me."

"Itni bhi bari nehi hai? Big enough for a family? Agar tum chaho to redecorate kar sakte he, shift karsakte he kitchen or living room ko, tum jesa chaho ge wesa hum look de sakte…"

"Daya!" I smile as I interrupt him. "It's OK, let's finish the tour."

He nods, holding my hand tightly as he shows me the other main room on the ground floor, his private office, before leading me upstairs. He takes me straight to the master bedroom.

I stand and look around for a moment, then walk over to the window, a set of glass doors that open onto a small balcony looking over the garden.

He follows me over and slips his hands around my waist, he runs his fingers over my neck to pull my attention.

"So…?" He whispers.

I turn around in his arms and look up at him apprehensively. "Bohot khubsurat hai, etiquette!"

"Yeh sab udhura tha Jhanvi, now everything is perfect."

He suddenly groans loudly as if he forgot something.

"Kya hua?"

"Bathroom dekhna to bhul hi gayi! You will love it!" He laughs.

We go back through and he slides a door open to reveal the most spectacular modern bathroom I ever saw in front of me.

"Wow, this is a _really_ nice bathroom."

"I designed it myself – sare ke sare fittings chose kare he maine, everything."

"Daya the Interior designer!" I giggle.

"Mera secret passion, apne hi ghar me! Koi kuch kahega bhi nehi!" He shrugs.

I look around then turn to him guiltily. "Bathroom itna stylish, whats your plan mister?"

He grins and puts his arms around me. "Listen, me badal gaya hu, ab me woh shy Daya nehi raha jisse tum I love you kehne se darti thi ki kahi darke bhag na jai. I truly am a straightforward man now. Samji?

"Lets see yeh straightforward changed man kitna pyaar kar sakta hai mujhe." I smile. "So, how do I get this amazing shower working?"

He laughs. "Get in and I'll show you!"

"Very funny!"

"I am serious!" He looks dead into my eyes as he slides the door of the shower.

"Daya, no!" I start warning him as he grabs and yanks my arms, pushes me into the shower before stepping in himself and turning on the taps. I squeal with laughter as he proceeds to fire jets of water at us from all directions. "Stop it! Daya, pagal hogaye ho, ahhh!"

"Itne pyaar se decorate kiya hai, dekhna to parega hi." He grins and surprises me with another jet in an unexpected place.

"Daya!" I shriek. "Stop!"

Laughing, he kept playing with the knobs, water jolting from every other direction. I cover my eyes with my arms and crouch over the wall. He kept sniggering like an overexcited teen, then satisfied with his little game he relents and comes over to me. I straighten up and watch his expression change in split second.

He looks into my eyes and moved slowly cradled his face with his hands.

He smiles again, as he brought his face right over mine. "I can't believe it. I can't believe you're here, with me, in my house, in my life."  
His lips seal mine as he gives me the most passionate kiss that a man can ever give. His feelings are so genuine I could feel it pulsing through his skin, through his touch. I snake my arms around his broad shoulders, my hands clutching his soaking collar. He pauses for a moment and abruptly breaks the kiss, tracing his lips around my cheek and ears before pulling his face away from me. I knew it was his move to save the heat of the moment.

"Jhanvi." He whispers, his eyes radiating love and regret.

"Hmm?"

He blinks furiously. "Kuch nehi… Kuch bhi nehi…" He sighs and little droplets of water fall from his wet hair onto my skin. He retreats and hand me a towel to dry off before leaving the bathroom to myself.

-

Daya is snoring quietly beside me and I watch him for a while before leaving him.

I take my phone out of my bag and I tap numbers and heave a sigh of relief as I hear a familiar voice. Nakul's

"I think that _is_ the best use of our time. You're such a spoil-sport – Kab ayega Mumbai wapas?" I get out of the bed as I speak in a whisper. "Tujhe pata hai na kitni planning karni hai... Mujhe esa lagta hai sab kuch jaldi jaldi kar lena sahi hoga!"

"Yaar, parso ka ticket katwaya hai, first class."

"How _exciting_. Tu train se arha hai idiot? Yar itne din ho gaye! I need you!" I sniff.

He ignores my tone. "Yar, me ajaunga, or wese bhi, you two needs to completely get over your past occurrences remember? And you know me, I hate being the kabab me haddi wala bestie."

"Who's telling you that we are doing anything for you to become the kabab or whatever?" I groan. "Stop assuming things…"

"Hello, me koi assumptions nehi laga rha hu, Abhijeet ka order he yeh. He needs to make sure you two completely survive each other for a week, tabhi shaadi wala plan age barega."

"You know wat, hail to you and to Abhijeet!" I clap my hands. "Me khud hi apni shaadi ki tayyari kar lungi!"

He laughs at my excitement and nervousness. "Are me mazak kar raha tha, don't worry, I won't take too long. Also, we need to make a small call on my parents so that they could help and then I thought we could check out some home style places – Me ake sab sambhal lunga, teri shaadi itni style se hogi ki you will be surprised." I make a face and he tuts. "Muh banana band kar I am very seriously – let me tell you, once I reach Mumbai you'll wonder what you ever did without me!"

"Oye tu pehle aja okay, I don't want you to ditch me, or Mum ko please mat batana that I am staying with Daya till you reach – She'll freak out about my pregnancy before marriage."

"Don't worry she will love if anything like that happens trust."

"Oh God, she's not going to like that."

"Me teri Ma ko tujhse zyada jaanta hu."

"Yeah whatever, so come back soon!"

"Yes – I will not make it long sweety."

I cut the call and turn back to see Daya still sleeping with his face stuffed in the pillow, arms hanging at the edge of the bed. I try not to stare, a little taken aback by his appearance. My desire for Daya hasn't change a bit. In fact the whole wedding thing got me into a state of silence. I am equally nervous about the whole wedding thing. Having Daya as my husband is like talking about a whole new dimension. You don't know what the sunrise of that morning would be like. Marriage. A strong word, indeed.

-


End file.
